


Emerald Halos

by cherryblossom22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bartender Dean Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Christian Castiel (Supernatural), Daddy Issues, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Initial Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, John Winchester Tries, M/M, Normal Life, Nurse Jessica Moore, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Record Store Employee Dean Winchester, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28433328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryblossom22/pseuds/cherryblossom22
Summary: Dean Winchester lives day by day in his lonely studio apartment in Lawrence. Juggling two jobs, and the need to please everyone, he barely has any time for himself. Even his relationship with girlfriend Lisa is on the rocks.It all changes when he meets Castiel Novak - the intense boy who Dean can't help but gravitate towards.Spotify Playlist for Emerald Halos (updated with each chapter): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6VL5EMsxvg1Yauh4LHiAkl?si=-UvmvuoXQGqOte7EUCC5Yg
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Same Old

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new work of mine!  
> I'll try update as regularly as I can!  
> Chapter 2 next week :)

“So I was thinking. How do you feel about me driving us down to Ellen’s on Saturday after my shift and...”

Dean was grinning one of those full blown grins which nobody often saw nowadays. He was cruising down the road, Black Sabbath blaring, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He turns right to look at his little brother.

“Sam?!” He takes notice of his brother’s vacant expression. Or what Dean assumes is a vacant expression; the dude is facing the window.

Sam sighs and turns to face his older sibling, “sorry, Dean, you were saying what about Ellen?”

“ _Ellen’s_. I was saying, I could take you down for your first beer with me? I mean I know you’re only 18 but jesus Sammy, when I was your age I had built up a tolerance enough to rival a bull.” Dean doesn’t know why he bothered asking Sam. Truthfully, he just missed how close he was with his younger brother when they were still living under the same roof, hell, Dean even missed his rancid farts and his bitchy whining about his studies. He knows the answer he’ll get from his younger brother.

“Dean, you know how I feel about drink. Dad is doing so well nowadays and I’m really proud of him. I don’t think he wants to see his past behaviour mirrored in his son.” Sam must see Dean’s face fall. Dean thinks that Sam is having a dig at him for his own drinking behaviour and obvious strained relationship with John.

Sam quickly zips opens his schoolbag which is wedged between his feet and pulls out a folder. He take out a study timetable which is annotated to the point where there’s more black ink than white paper, and waves it comically at Dean, “and besides, I have way too much studying this weekend to even think about go out! Although, if you’re free Sunday, Dean, I could do with some help emptying Jess’ apartment? She’s moving into a new one closer to the hospital so she won’t have to pay that ridiculous bus fare.”

Dean, putting his thoughts of his relationship with his father aside, jumps at this opportunity. He always loves helping his baby brother, even if it’s technically helping his student nurse girlfriend instead. “No problemo, Sammy! Next, you’ll be asking me to be best man at your wedding.”

Dean laughs at his own joke, “ouch- damn I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Sam has just thrown a punch to his older brother’s right shoulder.

“Ha funny, Dean. If anything it’ll be your wedding. You’ve been seeing Lisa for what? 2 years? I bet she’s just waiting for you to get down on one knee,” Sam does a complete 180 on Dean; who is now sitting in deep thought. It’s not like Dean doesn’t love Lisa – he’s sure he does. He’s known Lisa damn near his whole life; as long as he can remember anyway. He’s just never given much thought to the idea of marriage, perhaps because of the lack of healthy relationships in his own life to look up to, “Sam, if I ever think of making an honest man outta myself, I’ll let you know.”

The impala pulls a smooth right hand turn onto the street where the house Dean spent the majority of his childhood stands. Although Dean lived there for 14 years before inevitably moving out, he never thought of it as home. Home was a series of blurry faces of his mother, who died so tragically young. Home was her; teaching him how to bake vanilla cupcakes on rainy afternoons, and having a dad who wouldn’t shit on him for every choice he made. Truth be told, Dean couldn’t remember every detail of the home which too was taken by the blaze, he was only 4 years old. It was the comfort and warmth of the place which often gives him a lump in his throat.

Dean pulls up on the right hand side of the sidewalk and yanks the hand break up. Sam is quick to have his seatbelt unbuckled, shoving his school materials back into his backpack. He gives Dean a smile, thanks him for the ride, and when closing the impala’s door behind him, gives him a lazy wave before walking back to the house.

Before setting off back to his apartment, Dean allows himself to sit and gaze over to his father and brother’s home. It was an average looking, suburban home with a slate grey wooden panelled exterior. John promised Dean, once they settled into the house, that they would paint the exterior a deep forest green to stand out amongst the grey buildings surrounding them. Dean feels a short stab of anger at this, empty childhood promises swirl round his mind. He gives his head a subtle shake and blinks a few times to focus his vision, then he turns up Eric Clapton’s Cocaine on the radio before releasing the hand break, engaging the engine, then pulls away from the curb, putting distance between himself and the place he never called home.

Switching the engine off, once he reaches his apartment in downtown Lawrence, Dean locks baby’s doors and climbs the outside stairs two at a time, to his building, a small, studio flat situated above one of the city’s smaller dental offices. A quick fumble with his keys, and Dean has let himself into his apartment. He throws his keys into the bowl by the door, shuffles his brown heavy duty boots off, and flops down onto his tattered sofa which was originally property of Ellen’s bar, ‘The Roadhouse,' before one too many cigarette butts were pressed into its black leather. Dean looks at his watch: 5:15pm, he still had an hour and fifteen minutes until his evening shift. He groans, uses his arms to lift his weight off the couch, and shuffles to the bathroom.

Once Dean has washed his hair and scrubbed his body, he allows himself a few minutes to just stand and embrace the hot lashes of water bouncing off his shoulders and down his torso. Skin reddened from the roasting water, and satisfied enough, the man turns off the shower, dries, and opens the bathroom drawer which is filled with his day to day attire.

Dean is sporting his usual worn blue wrangler jeans and a burgundy long sleeved shirt as he waltzes to the kitchen/living room/bedroom in search for something quick to eat before his shift at The Roadhouse. Dean knows Ellen, being the maternal figure she is, would provide a hot meal for Dean, but he wants to show her that he is finally coming into his own – and besides, after all the time she’s spent worrying over that family, the least he can do is not give her his appetite to be concerned with.

Dean opens the fridge, nothing but a block of butter, hot sauce, and a dozen or so beer bottles. Moving onto the freezer, he comes across a microwave lasagne; it’ll have to do.

Wolfing down his dinner, Dean manages to catch the last 15 minutes of the latest episode of ‘Doctor Sexy M.D.’ When he’s finished, he carelessly throws the plastic food container in his kitchen trash can and heads out to Ellen’s bar.

* * *

“Well look who’s actually early for once!”

Dean grins then he closes the door behind him, the jokingly patronising voice belonging to Jo Harvelle; Ellen’s 22 year old daughter, who is busy cleaning down the bar and placing down fresh drink coasters.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe I’m here so early ‘cause I heard my _favourite co-worker_ would be here,” Dean playfully responds. He’s known the girl for as long as he can remember, Ellen being a firm friend of the Winchesters, it was only natural that Dean gained a sister figure in Jo.

“Ha! Womaniser are we, Dean? You can’t butter me up, buttercup; I know you too well. Besides, you forget mom left _me_ in charge, I practically own your ass.” Jo, has finished wiping down the bar, washes her hands and turns to face Dean, hands on her hips. “You’re not going to ask me about my trip to Vegas?”

Jo, a hard-worker, barely ever takes time off, preferring to spend most days hovering round the bar, chatting to regulars who all remember when she was too short to even sit on one of the barstools. The week-long all inclusive trip to Vegas may seem a little extravagant for a 22nd birthday gift from Ellen and Bobby who were by no means well-off, but Jo truly deserved it. She never asked for anything, and would share her school lunch with Dean when John – more often than not, forgot to pack his son one. After years of swearing she didn’t want birthday or Christmas gifts, calling them ‘ _silly and wasted on me,'_ Ellen had finally had enough, and decided to split the cost with Bobby on a non refundable vacation.

“Yeah, when did you get back?” Dean has shrugged his brown leather jacket off, and is now trying to find a free peg to hang it upon behind the bar.

“Late last night. I kinda swore to mom I would take the rest of the week off and pass duties onto Ash, but you know how much I miss this place!” Jo grins and puts on the most outlandish, stereotypical pirate accent, “The Roadhouse, she was calling to me!”

The two friends stand and stare each other before both exploding into belly laughs. “Please don’t ever do any impression without consulting me first. That one was just downright painful,” Dean is wiping a laughter-tear from his eye, “so what did you do? Did you meet any attractive guys? Like more attractive than me?”

“Dean! You know nobody could be _that devastatingly handsome_. The vacation was for two people, so naturally Charlie was my plus one. It was good; we went to the Natural History Museum, had a few drinks at the Bellagio – Dean that place is sooooo expensive, we spent almost a quarter of our holiday cash on one evening there, I could have _died_!” Jo dramatically grabs onto Dean’s arm to emphasise this, “we also did this stupid little outdoor shooting range experience thing which was actually fun, I ain’t been out shooting since before dad...”

This time it’s Dean’s turn to touch Jo’s arm. He reaches over and gives it a gentle squeeze. Poor Jo, like Dean; she too lost a parent at a young age. At least Dean wasn’t old enough to completely remember the painful details of his mother’s passing – Jo was 9 years old when her father was killed in a car accident on Christmas Eve 2006. It was nobody’s fault; he was driving home from the grocery store when he lost control of the vehicle when it hit black ice. The car spun uncontrollably and crashed down a steep verge; paramedics told Ellen that he died instantly.

Dean could see Jo trying to choke back tears, she was always so strong, never let anyone see her like this if she could help it. The older Winchester brother sympathised with her over this, she tries so hard to put on a brave face for Ellen. Similarly, Dean has always prioritised Sammy, sheltering him as much as possible from the aftereffects of their mother; Mary’s death.

“Sounds like you two really made it an experience to remember,” Dean responded brightly, dragging Jo back from dark memories.

“Um, yeah... Yeah, it really was something. It’s nice to actually spend some time with girl friends, and not just our ageing bar regulars and co-workers. No offence, Dean.” Jo has adjusted her posture into a more confident stance, seemingly back to her usual self.

Dean allows his grip to loosen on the Harvelle girl’s arm, letting his drop back to his side, “none taken, Jo. It’ll do you good to catch up with folk. God _knows_ you ain’t stopped since you took over this joint!” He waves his arm dismissively round the building’s interior. “How about you take the rest of the night off, it looks like it’ll be a slow one, no need for us both to be here.”

Jo’s expression turns to a thoughtful one, before she decides, “yeah, you know what? I will, maybe Las Vegas did me some good, ‘eh?” She pulls out a basket from under the bar and rakes for a moment until she finds a red feathered duster. She thrusts it to Dean, “you can be an absolute _angel_ for me and dust the picture frames on the wall over there,” she points to the far wall. “I’m too damn short and Ash has stolen my only ladder for whatever reason. You’ll have no issue reaching.”

Dean laughs at this, says his goodnight to Jo and begins his shift.

Around 10pm, a scruffy looking man with sandy brown, floppy hair waltzes in. He orders a scotch on the rocks and since he’s the only customer currently in the premises, he sits on a stool right by the bar, hoping to spring some conversation into the barman.

Dean grabs a fresh glass for the man, and pours him a double – no extra charge.

“So, uh... I don’t recognise you, you new here?” Dean realises this sounds a little ‘small town’ considering Lawrence’s sizable population and elaborates, “I mean, only _locals_ even stop to look at this place, it’s a very cliquey establishment – not that we’re not friendly here! Love a fresh face!” _Nice save Dean_ – he thinks self patronisingly.

The man laughs; if he finds the conversation awkward, he ain’t letting it show. “Actually, my family and I moved here in 2005, but we were all home-schooled and never really mingled with anyone outside the church. Having such a tight family unit your whole life can smother you; so I decided to moved to St. Louis when I was 17, stayed there until last month, doing cash in hand work here and there, ya know? Back now though... “

Dean and the man make small talk for an hour or so. The man, he learns is called Gabriel, he’s 24 years old and - turns out; the local church minister’s son. That explains why Dean’s never crossed paths with him or his family. Gabriel has two older siblings, Michael and Anna, and a younger brother; Castiel – what in the name of Jesus kind of name is _Castiel_?!

Dean decides against asking about Gabriel’s brother’s namesake. Instead, the two men bond over their shared experience being older brothers, and when Gabriel has had a few more drinks – they discuss their common interest in women, and porn with terrible plotlines.

“Well I suppose I better head off. Was nice meeting you, Dean-o. Until next time!” Gabriel slaps the table with his hands to push himself away from the empty bar.

Dean waves the man off and because of how quiet The Roadhouse is tonight, he gets ready to close up early; grabbing himself a small beer can to drink as he does so.


	2. Prospects

The rest of Dean’s week passes, the days intertwining and merging together. Come Sunday, he’s huffing and puffing, carrying one end of a heavy brown fabric sofa down 4 flights of stairs, while Sam takes the opposite side.

 _Thank god Jessica had some sense in renting a moving van_ – Dean thinks. He worries that he’ll put his back out with the effort he and Sammy are putting into this.

Jessica shows up at her apartment sometime in the early afternoon; she was working an early morning shift at the hospital’s trauma unit. Dean liked Jessica from the moment Sam sheepishly introduced her to him, a bubbly, smart, and beautiful girl – he wonders how his little brother got so lucky.

“Hi boys!” Jessica knocks once on her apartment door to make the brothers aware of her arrival, before walking in and planting a short kiss on Sam’s cheek. “Oh, Dean – thank you so much for helping me out with this; I know Sunday is your only free day of the week, so I _really_ appreciate it,” the girl smiles a sweet, warm smile in Dean’s direction.

“I knew you both will have been working hard, so I’ve brought lunch?” Jessica opens her large leather satchel and pulls out 2 brown paper bags containing sandwiches for Sam and Dean.

 _Yeah, Sammy struck gold with you, Jess_ – Dean thinks to himself, placing the heavy cardboard box he was carrying at his feet.

The three sit on cushions and eat their lunch. Jessica tells Dean that Lisa is asking for him, and she hasn’t heard from him in over a week. Funnily enough, Jessica is relatively friendly with Lisa; the two work in the same hospital as nurses. Jessica being a student nurse in trauma, and Lisa; who just recently passed her exams and works full time in the renal clinic. Their relationship doesn’t extend very much outside of work, but they’re obviously comfortable with each other to be discussing Dean and Lisa’s love life.

Dean has a momentary feeling of guilt. He does mean to drop Lisa a call – but she knows he’s busy, working two jobs, and she works long shifts herself. Truth be told, their romantic relationship is practically built upon time apart. Lisa for the most part has accepted Dean’s ‘lone wolf’ persona.

He tells Jessica that life has been real busy recently, but he reassures her that he’ll give Lisa a call later tonight.

“She’s a great girl, Dean. If you don’t wanna buckle down and make some sort of inkling that you’re committed; she’ll find someone who will,” Jessica is poking mindlessly at her pasta salad with her fork. The conversation moves to a lighter note. Sammy discusses his plan to apply to Stanford before he graduates, and Jessica, a year into her nursing course, can’t wait to work at the hospital full time.

Dean is so proud of the both of them. He’s not known Jessica for that long, but she’s family in his eyes.

“What about you, Dean? Do you have any plans to go back into education?” Jessica gently taps Dean’s elbow.

“Me? Nahhh, hated school, I left that place as soon as I could legally. Besides, I love working at The Roadhouse – it’s always been like a home to me. Also my day job at Curiosity Records is going great. Benny hints at a more serious position there, perhaps managerial.” Curiosity Records is a downtown record store owned by Benny Lafitte, a rugged 32 year old man. Dean met Benny over a year ago at an after-party for an AC/DC gig, and instantly became firm friends. Benny offered Dean a permanent position at the store when Dean remarked that The Roadhouse just wasn’t paying the rent anymore.

“I would like to save up a little for travel though. Don’t get me wrong, I hate flying – but I think I need to get out there, ya’know? Maybe see a bit of Europe; test the waters,” Dean elaborates. Sam brightens at this, visibly curious; he can’t remember his brother ever expressing an interest in venturing outside the United States.

“That’d be great, Dean! I think it’d be good for you to take a break from Lawrence – somewhere a little less familiar.”

Jessica isn’t required back at the hospital until Tuesday, so she works with the brothers to pack up the remaining boxes and furniture into the transit van. Sam gives tiny Jess a boost into the vehicle, before jumping into the driver’s seat. He and his girlfriend give Dean final thanks, and set off to Jessica’s new place – which thankfully is ground floor, so additional assistance won’t be needed for the moving-in process.

Dean stands for a moment, watching as the van grows smaller in the distance, then turning left out of sight. Dean turns on his heel, back to the impala, and phones for a takeaway pizza.

 _Another quiet night, just me and you; pizza_ – Dean mutters, settling on his studio apartment sofa. He’ll remain there until bed.

* * *

_**RINNNNNNNNNNNG**_!

Dean must have drifted off, half a pizza crust is lying – discarded on his lap. It takes him a second to waken up and process his cell phone ringing.

Sliding it out his jean back pocket, Dean checks the caller ID: Benny.

He answers, “Hey Dean, apologies for callin’ you so late. I’ll cut to the chase; I’ve had a bit of bad news today, my dad’s had, what’s assumed to be a heart attack... I need to head down to Nashville and see him, you understand? So I need someone to take care of the store for the next week or so. I know you’re there for your usual 8 hours, but I’d _really_ appreciate it if you could either come in an hour earlier or stay an hour later every day – handling the behind the scenes aspects; emails and stock taking etcetera. Just until I’m back, that is.” Benny sounds exhausted, poor guy.

“Yeah, of course! Benny, you don’t need to say any more.”

“You’re a great guy, Dean. Thank you,” and with that, Benny hangs up.

Dean Winchester is never one to abandon someone in need. What’s an extra hour a day? Yeah he has work at The Roadhouse, but if Dean wakes up an hour earlier, he can get the extra workload out the way. That way, he’ll still have time to unwind before his evening shifts at the bar.

In fact, the more work to keep him occupied, the less time he’ll be sitting in this apartment, loneliness consuming him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So this is chapter 2. I haven't written anything in god knows how many years so I'm rusty as hell. I'll try to post frequently, but please excuse me if I fall off the wagon once in a while - I'm only human!
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Ocean Blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to wait a week or so to post chapter 3. But I thought it was unfair for there to be 2 chapters and no Cas. So here is his first interaction with Dean!

It’s Monday, 10am. Dean has been at Curiosity Records since 8am. He’s certainly not a morning person – that’s Sammy. So to compensate for a lack of energy, Dean has consumed 4 cups of hot java whilst checking Benny’s emails. Afterwards, while running his finger over each shelf, he takes note of which stock is running low. Fleetwood Mac have apparently made a return to popularity within the teenage population, so he scribbles down to re-order a double batch of their 1977 release; Rumours.

Dean moves further across the store, checking for empty spaces as he goes. He notices some records are out of place; picking one up he flips it around and reads the cover.

Back to Black by Amy Winehouse – he mouths. Amy is one of Lisa’s favourite artists.

_Shit._

_Lisa._

Dean was supposed to call her last night, he _promised_ Jessica. Now what if Jess texts Lisa and figures out Dean forgot.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

He quickly walks back to the cashier’s counter, and grabs his cell from under the desk. Bringing up Lisa’s contact, he decides to text her instead.

‘Hey Lis baby. I’m so sorry I haven’t been talking much this last week, work has been so hectic. Dinner at Cosmo’s Wednesday night?’ He thinks for a moment, figuring out when he’s not required at The Roadhouse. _Yeah, Wednesday nights good_ – he decides and hits send.

The rest of the morning is relatively quiet – it is a Monday after all. Dean checks his watch; it’s now 11:55am so he locks up the place and takes a walk to the corner store where he usually buys his lunch. Settling on a turkey sandwich, a small cherry pie slice, and yet another coffee; he makes his way back to Benny’s.

Dean knows he’s supposed to close the joint for half an hour lunch, but it’s quiet as it is – so he keeps it open while eating his food at the front desk.

Finished with his sandwich, Dean is about to tuck into that delicious looking pie when the shop door bell rings; alerting the man that someone has entered the premises.

“-So I told Michael; I’m not taking the job until he removes that goddamn stick out his a-“

“Gabriel, shh! Don’t be so rude!”

 _Gabriel_? – Dean looks up; the name isn’t that common, and sure enough, it’s the man from The Roadhouse, accompanied by another man with dark ‘floofy’ hair and blue eyes. Like – ridiculously piercing blue.

Gabriel also recognises the older Winchester brother and gravitates towards him.

“You work here too?” Gabriel points at the desk which is currently occupied by Dean’s unfinished lunch, “It’s Dean... right?”

Dean takes in Gabriel’s appearance; the man is presented a little neater than a few nights ago – his mid-length hair is combed back, and he’s wearing a black jean jacket.

“Hey, yeah – Dean Winchester, I remember you from The Roadhouse. Gabriel?”

The man nods, “Gabriel Novak if we’re being formal, most call me Gabe.” He then gestures to the man a dozen feet away, who is browsing the vinyl records, “this is my brother, Castiel.”

The other man – Castiel returns the record he’s holding back to its place on the shelf. He smiles subtly and slowly walks over to where Dean and Gabriel stand.

Dean takes in the rest of Castiel’s appearance. He’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a thick, white turtleneck sweater. His composure leads Dean to believe that Castiel is shy.

“Hello, nice to meet you. You have a beautiful store.”

Dean warmly smiles back. The man isn’t shy, merely quiet and reserved.

“Uhh, thank you, man. I’m not the owner though, I’m just the dog’s body.” Castiel’s eyes squint slightly, as if attempting to read Dean. Dean feels slightly intimidated.

“Oh. Well... It looks like a lovely place to work-“

“Castiel was actually looking for inspiration, sick of the same music he’s listened to for years,” Gabriel interrupts. He looks to his brother and nods, a cue for him to explain.

“Well... I enjoy instrumental pieces. Bach in particular. Any of the greats-“

 _Geez, how old does this guy think he is, 80?_ – Dean thinks to himself.

“-and... I suppose, I was looking to get into something different. These ones look... intriguing,” Castiel glances over to where he was standing a moment ago.

“Ahhh, rock and progressive rock?” Dean is glad Castiel shows an interest in these genres. Most people who come in are looking for the newest releases. Not that Dean doesn’t enjoy some Taylor Swift now and then. It’s just nice to have his extensive rock knowledge come in handy once in a while.

The man nods.

Dean tells the men to ‘wait right there’ while he checks the stockroom. He reappears, clutching David Bowie’s 1977 masterpiece, ‘Low.’

Gabriel has wondered outside to smoke – Dean registers that it smells like weed and can't believe he's related to Castiel. He turns and passes the orange record to Castiel who looks at the cover curiously, before flipping it and scowls at the track listing

Dean clears his throat, “um... So you said you enjoy instrumental music. I don’t really follow classical, it’s not my thing, but I do know Bowie. He was _very_ experimental in his hay-day.” Dean hovers his finger over the words on the back. “The first half of the tracks on here are fantastic, and uh... The second half of the record is completely instrumental, ambient and tranquil. Initially the project was to be used as the soundtrack for his movie, ‘The Man Who Fell to Earth’ – amazing film btw... But yeah... Like I said, I don’t know much ‘bout classical, but there’s some tracks without vocals on there and... Maybe it’ll be a stepping stone into the genre.”

Dean instinctively scratches the back of his neck. He often does this when he’s embarrassed or nervous. What does Dean Winchester have to be nervous about in this situation?

 _Get a grip dude, you’re just giving a guy some music advice, so stupid_!

Castiel’s gaze moves from the record, back to Dean’s eyes, “thank you, Dean.”

The mens' eyes stay locked on each other for a moment, until the connection is broken by the sound of Gabriel returning.

“Did ‘ya find something, Cassie?” He questions his brother – who raises the record in response.

“Excellent!” The man claps his hands together, “you go pay, then we can eat.”

And so, Dean takes Castiel’s money, thanks him for his purchase and says goodbye to the two brothers. Castiel offers himself a final glance back at the store once outside and smiles genuinely at Dean.

Dean, who is still watching the two men walk away into the distance, is interrupted by a loud text alert; making him jolt. He checks his cell phone.

**MESSAGE RECIEVED TODAY AT 12:35AM**

**LISA:** _It’s okay, I know you’re busy. Cosmo’s sounds good. What time will you pick me up?_

Dean promptly responds with a time. He’ll get Lisa around 6pm. Maybe after dinner she’ll invite Dean to stay the night. Beats watching crappy TV at his house.

He also notices an unread text message from John. It reads;

 _Dean, it’s your father. I know we haven’t seen eye to eye for a while now. Just wanting to check in. How you doing_? 

He clenches his jaw tight before deleting the message. His life is so much better without John in his life – the man never cared about him. He could have gone missing as a kid and John Winchester; ‘father of the decade’ wouldn’t even notice. Dean spent enough nights as a kid asleep at The Roadhouse or Bobby’s to know _that_ much. If his dad wants to talk, he’ll have to prove he’s changed.

After Dean finishes up at the record store, he repeats his usual routine of going home, having dinner, going to The Roadhouse, coming back home, and sleeping. At least tomorrow he sees Lisa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will be a longer one. It's my favourite one so far! I'll be editing and posting before the 20th I hope!


	4. Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gives me Notting Hill vibes and I'm here for it.

Dean Winchester is running late.

He had planned on closing the store at around 4:15pm which would have given him plenty time to drive home and gussy up for his date.

The upstairs occupants had a leaky sink, so Dean has spent the last hour scrubbing the record store walls and floor, so Benny wouldn’t notice anything amiss when he returns. He eventually leaves the place at 5:15pm; meaning that Dean only has 45 minutes to get home, shower, change, and be outside Lisa’s front door. Shit.

To make matters worse, a pigeon has taken a hot one on the impala’s hood. It’s not his day.

 _I ain’t got time for this –_ Dean remarks. He decides that since he’s in a hurry already, he’ll just have to leave it and hope Lisa doesn’t notice.

* * *

After a multitude of wardrobe changes and enough swearing to make a nun sweat, Dean is outside the apartment of Lisa Braeden – and 20 minutes late. As he pulls the car over, he feels a pang of guilt for not texting her beforehand – letting her know he was running behind.

Lisa is standing by the mailbox; wearing a body-confident short, black dress which, in Dean’s mind; hugs her figure in all the right places. Her arms are folded, holding her elbows tightly. She’s obviously upset. _Shit_.

He leans over the passenger seat and opens the door for her with an apologetic smile. “Baby, I know I’m late, I’m sorry! There was this fuckin’ mis-hap at the store – and Benny left me in charge, it just threw my whole plan off, Lis!”

Lisa says nothing. She’s always joking about Dean’s immaturity; she is a few years his senior. However, in moments like this, where her boyfriend of two years treats her and dismisses her like a high school fling, she doesn’t find it funny.

“Lis? Lisa?” Again, no response. Lisa is staring ahead, refusing to even sneak a glance in the man’s direction. Dean racks round his brain for what to say next.

“So you’re not gonna talk to me. Do you still wanna go to dinner?” Probably not the best thing he could have come out with.

At this, Lisa shuffles to sit up straight, her arms remain tightly folded. She lets out a small sigh, still not making eye contact with Dean who’s brain is freezing up. He never was good with emotions.

“ _You_ made reservations. It would be _rude_ of me not to,” she murmurs with a patronising tone of voice, shifting to look out the passenger side window.

Dean sometimes doesn’t know why he gets himself into relationships. Two years of deciphering hidden messages in Lisa’s tone, trying to understand what she wants. She’ll be upset if Dean offers an alternative option, or get mad when they do what they suggest in the first place. Regardless, Dean is still driving en-route to Cosmo’s. He’s not even certain the restaurant will take them now, they’re half an hour late for their booking.

* * *

After a painfully tense car ride, the two are seated at Cosmo’s; the reservation held long enough. Dean is two fingers of good scotch down, tucking into his calzone. His paycheck doesn’t quite allow for extravagances, but he definitely needs the whiskey tonight. Lisa is pushing pasta salad around with her fork, with a tired, absent expression. She’s barely said a word to her boyfriend since they entered the restaurant; and now she gently lays her cutlery down.

“This isn’t working,” Lisa states, no longer sounding aggravated – just exhausted.

Dean is taken aback by hearing his girlfriend fill the silence finally. “Sorry, Lis? Did you say something?” He hurryingly wipes his hands and mouth free of grease with a napkin and awaits her response.

 _“This,”_ Lisa gestures to herself then Dean, “-is just not working. It hasn’t for a long time and you know it too.” Her deep brown eyes connect with Dean’s finally.

He knows that the relationship has been a little rocky recently, but Dean blamed that on both of their busy schedules. Him working two jobs, and her; a full time nurse. He isn’t entirely sure what his girlfriend is saying.

“I don’t think I _do_ know. We make it work Lis, I know we struggle – but I can take some time off – we can go away! Ellen would understand-“

She cuts him off, “no Dean. This isn’t about work. This is about us. We are on autopilot. We’ve been together two years and you haven’t even given me a key to your apartment? You never want to discuss the future, _our_ future. I can’t sit around and wait for you, Dean – not anymore. I’m tired. I should have said something sooner, I’m sorry about the dinner.”

Dean says nothing. He’s gobsmacked, mouth ajar, green eyes wide with questions and apologies. He says nothing still when Lisa takes out her purse and leaves $40 on the table before standing up.

“We settled for each other. Goodbye Dean.” With that, she leaves. He assumes she'll probably call a cab home.

A few minutes later, the man absently fumbles some crumbled cash out of his back pocket and leaves it on top of Lisa’s. He then grabs a 24 pack of beer at the store next door before heading home.

* * *

It’s hours later and Dean Winchester is half-ass watching some old black and white movie from the comfort of his couch. He’s consumed more alcohol than he cares to count. Lisa has left him.

He thinks over and over – whether he really could have said something tonight which would change her persuasion, rather than just sit and stare.

No.

Lisa has been unhappy for months. Dean knows this, and yet; he still can’t quite believe she’s gone. Outside of Sammy, Benny, and the Roadhouse Crew; Lisa was a constant. No matter how shitty or neglectful he could be – she was always there. There for him when it mattered. He can’t say the same for himself. He fucked it up, and there was nothing now he could do to fuse the broken threads back together. That rope had snapped.

Maybe Dean just isn’t relationship material. Sam and Jo joke about his commitment issues all the time, even Jessica could tell it was on thin ice. He’s pathetic. Just like his father. He treated Mary like shit, and she _stayed._ She put up with his crap day after day. It killed her in the end. She died in that fire, and her hero husband was the one showered with sympathy. Sure he loved her in his own way, but he didn’t deserve her. Dean didn’t deserve Lisa for as long as he had her.

He arises, staggers to the kitchen island and grabs his mobile phone. Leaning his forearms on the granite worktop; Dean drunkenly composes a text:

_Fuck u, cunt. I don't want to hear from u or see u, do u understand? Mom would be alive still if u had let her leave._

Dean satisfied in his intoxicated state, hits send. If he’s blaming himself, may as well blame the maker too.

* * *

He awakes to a clatter. His eyes blink open, Dean groans when he discovers he’s kicked over an almost full bottle of beer; its contents slowly creeping across the floor.

_Shit what time is it?_

He rubs his face with one hand – trying to stimulate some sort of awakness in it. With his other hand, he checks his watch.

10:45am.

_Crap._

This shock appears to jolt Dean awake. He cleans up his mess from the night before, and his eyes regretfully dot around the various empty bottles around the room. He hasn’t drunk that much since he moved out of John’s. He spots an empty half bottle of vodka in the corner – he didn’t drink that too, did he?

Can’t think about his blood alcohol right now. Dean is needed at the store. The store which is supposed to be open right now.

The man dashes to the bathroom where he keeps his clothes and throws on a plain black t shirt and jeans. He doesn’t have time for his morning (soon to be afternoon) coffee; he decides he can grab one at the record store. Dean Winchester thanks his lucky stars that Benny is still away visiting family. He just hopes none of the locals phone Benny, curious as to why the store is still closed.

Dean Winchester parks the Impala near Curiosity Records, relief washing over him that nobody is waiting outside. This is probably why he should steer clear of relationships. He could have lost his damn job because of Lisa.

No. He can’t blame Lisa. He _doesn’t_ blame Lisa. This is entirely his fault. In the beginning, whenever Dean went days without a word, Lisa was always the first to talk. She gradually did this less frequently, until eventually waiting for him instead. This resulted in Dean not calling for two weeks. Lisa was tired of Dean fluttering in and out of her life, she tried.

 _Should he call her_?

He shakes the thought from his mind. Too little too late. That was the final nail on the coffin for their relationship, it’s time to move on.

* * *

Its roughly 10 minutes later and Dean has opened the store to the public for the day. Slight hangover creeping upon him, he takes a couple Oreos from the office hoping sugar will help, and slumps down at his seat by the store counter.

He recognises a missed phone call from Sammy and presses the ‘call’ button. Sam picks up on the third ring.

“Dean?”

The older Winchester picks up on a slight worried tone in his brother’s voice.

“Yeah, hey Sammy. Just checked my phone, you called earlier?”

“I did,” Sam continues after a short pause. “Look, Dean. Dad hasn’t heard from you in months, and the first thing you say is that?! You know he’s trying, he’s actually improved a crap ton. He was hurt by your text.”

Oh. Oh. Dean scratches his head. He hazily remembers sending his father a text message – and not a cheerful one at that. “Look, Sammy. I’m sorry. Tell him I’m sorry. Between you and me, I had a shit time of it yesterday. Lisa left.”

“Wait? Lisa left you?” Sam, although the younger brother, is always concerned for Dean. Sam and Jessica have such a strong bond and he often worries that his brother won’t find someone like that to share his life with.

“Yeah. We’re just not enough for each other anymore I guess,” Dean tries to hide the sadness in his words. He knows Sam means well, but he can’t have his baby brother thinking he can’t manage.

Sam tells Dean how sorry he is for the man, and perhaps he could confide in Jo. She had a rough breakup not too long ago herself.

He thanks Sam for his concern, and again apologises for being rude to John – for Sammy being the messenger for him.

“I’ll let dad know you didn’t mean it. Although, you really should talk between yourselves. I think you’d be surprised.”

The brothers say their goodbyes, and Dean gets up to make a coffee. Maybe a dose of caffeine will keep the tiredness at bay.

When he returns from the kitchen, he jumps slightly at the figure standing by his desk. It’s Gabriel’s brother, Castiel. He didn’t hear him enter.

“Hi, sorry. Did I frighten you?” The blue eyed man’s face is primarily blank, aside from a hint of concern at Dean’s reaction.

“Uh, yeah, a little! Sorry, I didn’t hear the door, have you been waiting long?” He’s getting flustered again. _What does this weird guy have over him_?

“Not at all. I thought I’d come say thank you, for the record.”

Dean chuckles, “you paid for it, man. I just sold you it.”

“No, I know. I only meant that your recommendation was excellent. You were right, I really enjoyed Low. I was wondering whether you had anything else you think I’d enjoy?” Castiel hasn’t stopped staring at Dean’s face, while Dean struggles to make eye contact.

 _Jesus, loosen up a little, Winchester_ – he thinks to himself. He brightens up at the fact that Castiel enjoyed Bowie.

“Yeah, of course! Its what I’m good for. How long you got? Because the water is still hot - I can make you a cup of coffee? It’s only instant mind you.” Dean really shouldn’t offer customers drinks, he’s not in The Roadhouse, Benny would flip if he knew food and beverages were being consumed in the store front – but Benny isn’t here and _technically_ he left Dean in charge. What he doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.

He half expects the other man to decline his offer, he’s only here for the vinyl records after all. He’s pleasantly surprised when Castiel accepts, with a request for 2 teaspoons of sugar.

 _Sweet tooth, huh_? Dean gives the mug one last stir before bringing it to Castiel. “Be careful, it’s hot. I’ll be right back with a chair.”

The two men sit side by side at the cashier’s counter. Benny would be livid if he knew Dean was letting practically a stranger behind the counter where the cash register was. Maybe Dean feels like breaking the rules a little today. _Hell_ he needs a distraction from Lisa.

“Thanks for the coffee, it’s good,” Castiel turns to Dean after they both have had a few sips.

Dean cracks up when he realises the other man is serious, “Cas, not for nothing, but your taste buds must be shit, because this coffee is the worst. I should actually apologise for brewing you a cup.”

It's Benny’s instant coffee, and Dean begins to wonder how long the jar has been sitting in the store kitchen... Probably way too long.

Castiel’s face lights up, as he laughs at Dean’s matter-of-fact comment.

For the first time since meeting him, Dean registers how magnificent Castiel’s smile is. Two perfect rows of straight white teeth, the smallest hint of forming crows feet at the outer corners of his sapphire eyes, making Castiel appear a little older than he probably is. Dean no longer feels intimidated by him, now he’s seen something other than an intense stare.

“Well I was trying not to be rude, but I suppose you’re right. It’s a little... off?” Castiel frowns at the mug before placing it on the desk. “I did enjoy the record you recommended, Dean. Maybe you could show me some more artists you think I’d like? Surprise me, maybe?"

Castiel’s voice is like being engulfed in a warm wool blanket on a winter’s day with the crackle of a roaring fire. It's soft, comforting, but also a little rough and raspy. Which is probably why Dean’s stomach flutters a little at him using his vocal chords to shape and sound Dean’s own name. “Wait, what?” Is all he can muster.

“Do you have any more music suggestions?” Castiel rephrases himself.

Dean’s mind fog clears as he takes in what Blue Eyes is asking. “Oh! Yeah, the music! Well lemme think... I reckon since you enjoyed Low, you’d enjoy the other two records in his Berlin Trilogy. You could start out with Heroes, then move onto Lodger? Both are great also – and Heroes has a few good instrumental pieces.”

Castiel’s eyes are affixed to Dean’s own. The man nods intently, soaking up the various titles and artists thrown in his direction.

“-of course, if you like Bowie, you’ll probably enjoy some Lou Reed, or even Iggy Pop... Myself, I’m more of a Led Zeppelin fan. They sure know how to paint a picture in 10 minute long songs.”

Castiel has assured Dean that money isn’t really an issue, he still lives at home and his parents refuse to let him pay bills while he helps his father with work. So Dean selects a handful of records;

 _Low_ and _Heroes_ both by David Bowie, _Lust for Life_ by Iggy Pop, _Transformer_ by Lou Reed, _The Velvet Underground and Nico_ – Self titled, and Dean’s personal favourite; _Led Zeppelin IV_.

He doesn’t charge Castiel for the last record (another thing he won’t be admitting to Benny). He’s very appreciative of this, and keeps thanking Dean for the ‘gift’.

The temperature of Dean’s face rises, causing the freckled skin to turn a soft pink. It must be warmer today... Or the hangover?

“No really, it’s okay! You’re welcome. It’s nice when someone shows interest in music I’m passionate about. My little brother’s more interested in early 2000’s stuff. Can’t be doing with that really.”

Castiel’s head cocks slightly to one side, “you have a brother? How old is he?”

Dean’s head is again filled with white noise; he thought this guy had calmed down a little on the intensity. He was wrong. “Uhhh... Sammy! He’s 18 – Sammy’s 18.”

_Okay, Winchester, this guy thinks you’re on drugs or some shit._

“Are you close? I would have loved to be an older brother, but I make do being the youngest of 4,” Castiel smiles, it’s obvious to Dean that Castiel enjoys being a brother. He recognised some of himself and Sammy the other day in Castiel and Gabriel.

“Yeah, we’ve always been close knit. Dad wasn’t around much when we were younger so I think I felt a lot of responsibility for him. We don’t see each other everyday like we used to though, I live on my own now, and Sam is busy with his girlfriend whenever he has a second free,” Dean realises he doesn’t discuss his personal life with anyone he doesn’t consider family. _Its the hangover_.

“That’s good though, having a bond like that. I’m closest to Gabriel – you met him already; he’s 24. Then there’s Anna, she’s 25 and married to Abel... Michael is the oldest of us, he’s 27, we never were that close, he lives in Topeka, teaching English,” This is the most Dean has heard Castiel speak in one instance since they met. He’s growing familiar to the unusually gravelly voice for his age. Or however old he actually is.

“How old are you then? You’re younger than 24 anyway.”

Castiel let’s out a small laugh, “I’m 22 years old. People tend to think I’m a lot older.”

 _Christ 22? There’s no way this guy is the same age as me_ – Dean ponders. The mixture of maturity in composure, rasp in his voice, and interest in retirement home music are probably to blame for that.

“Ooft, me too, you do come across older though – not that it’s a bad thing!” _Jesus Christ someone shut me the hell up_.

The two continue talking back and forth. The conversation becomes more natural the longer they become familiar with each others' mannerisms. Dean learns that Castiel lives at home with his mother, and father – who runs the nearby church. Castiel has been helping his father most days, and he assumes he’ll take over senior duties whenever his parents believe he’s ready. He was born in Boston, but moved to Lawrence at a young age. All siblings were home-schooled, which explains why Dean never saw them at school. Castiel jokes that Gabriel is the black sheep of the family for leaving home for a while and cutting off contact for a couple months.

“He wanted to find himself I suppose. I’m not sure if he did, but to be honest, the church life isn’t for him... He’s too free spirited-“ Castiel explains.

Dean listens intently, he’s never been so absorbed into a conversation – maybe only with Lisa in their early months.

He learns that although Castiel is the youngest; he was protective of Anna in their childhood years. He tells Dean about her wedding to Abel, who runs a neighbouring church choir.

Dean in turn decides it’s only fair to open up to Castiel. He details his oldest memories of his mother before she passed. He touches a little on his strained relationship with John. He gushes about Sammy and how proud he is of the kid, and strains that Castiel _has_ to meet Jo. He doesn’t mention his 2 year relationship with Lisa which ended less than 24 hours ago.

* * *

The store has been almost dead today, and Dean and Castiel have talked for nearly 3 hours. They’ve consumed 2 more instant coffees, neither of the men caring to complain about the taste anymore.

When Castiel recognises the time, with an annoyed expression; he tells Dean he needs to go.

Before Dean can think otherwise he blurts, “will you come back?”

The other man smiles gently and winks, “of course, Dean. If these records are as good as the last, I’ll be back.”

The Winchester boy’s heart flips. He blames it on the shitty coffee’s caffeine kick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a little shorter guys! More of Castiel though!


	5. Glimmer of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my 22nd birthday and I should be doing something other than writing, but who cares, right?

_Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know_

_The piper’s calling you to join him..._

Castiel is lying on his bed on Thursday evening, eyes closed, tapping his foot to the rhythm of Led Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven.’ He loves this one. He likes _every_ piece of music Dean Winchester has suggested. He would say he especially loves this song due to its Christian symbolism. In actuality, it’s because Dean stated it was one of his favourites. It’s a far cry from Bach and Chopin.

He’s taken away from Robert Plant’s powerful vocal chords by the loud vibration of his cell phone. Castiel doesn’t bother to prop himself up, lazily he reaches for the device in his bed-side table, and squints at the caller ID before accepting the call.

“Gabriel,” Castiel monotonously answers.

“Wow, so enthusiastic. Save some of that energy for church,” his older brother responds sarcastically.

“Hmphf,” Castiel grumbles, adjusting himself to lie on his side, he puts the other man on loud-speaker, “what can I help you with?”

“Not much really, I couldn’t help but notice that you took a liking to my good friend Dean the other day... Did you go back for seconds?” Gabriel is always teasing his little brother with suggestive tones, it’s a running joke that Gabriel is a womaniser while Castiel is... _well_ he’s not been with _anyone._

Castiel is used to this so replies promptly, “sounds like _you_ want seconds, Gabriel. You only met him once before I did, I’d hardly call him a friend,” he pinches his nose bridge to fight the creeping tiredness.

“Ouch! He’s not really _my_ type, Cassie.”

“And you’re saying he’s _mine?_ ” Castiel has left his phone on his bed while he goes to tuck Led Zeppelin safely back into it’s sleeve.

“I don’t even know if you _have_ a type, I’m just sayin’ it’d be good for you to meet someone,” Gabriel hints.

The blue-eyed boy pauses, lost for words for a moment. Although born into a pretty religious family, Castiel knows that his siblings wouldn’t _oppose_ to him being anything other than straight. Michael maybe would be a little uncomfortable - his parents on the other hand; he’s not too sure about. Castiel decides to not reply to Gabriel with a snarky comment, instead he thinks about telling him about today.

Castiel likes to move around when he’s on the phone, he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it. He closes his bedroom curtains and thumps back down onto his bed. “Well, I actually went back to the record store today, and I bought a couple more vinyl.”

The line is silent for a second, Castiel thinks his brother is considering his words carefully.

“Did you go back for the records... Or for _him?_ ” There’s none of Gabriel’s usual jokingly tone in his words, Castiel senses – _concern?_

“I’m not sure yet. He has a good taste in music though. We sat for a while at the store and he made me coffee. He told me about his family and was really quite sweet,” Castiel’s mind wonders back to earlier that day when the handsome – _and he was indeed handsome,_ emerald green-eyed man listened so intently to Castiel. He felt _seen._ That’s a rare thing for someone living in the shadow of Michael and Anna.

“I am glad you’ve connected with someone, Cassie, I really am. It’s just –“ Gabriel again, stops. Castiel can hear his older brother exhale slowly, “-I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He doesn’t need Gabriel to elaborate further. Castiel doesn’t even know his own sexuality. He knows he at least likes men – tall, pretty men. But his brother is right, anyone could see that Dean Winchester is most likely straight.

“I know, Gabriel, I’ll be careful. It’s just nice to have a friend outside the family.”

The brothers talk for a few more minutes before Gabriel groans about some girl trying to get through to him on another line.

When Castiel hangs up, he can’t stop pondering ‘what if’. What if Dean Winchester _is_ gay? Maybe the freckled boy was tripping over his words _because_ he could sense some sort of mutual attraction between them both? Castiel shakes this thought away and turns his lamp off before getting under the covers for bed.

_But ‘what if?’_

He turns back around and switches the lamp back on, his eyes scrunched half closed with the suddenness of bright light. He reaches under his bed for a grey case, and unzips it – pulling out his laptop.

Castiel doesn’t have a Facebook account for himself, but his father’s church does. He opens up the log-in page. Its Anna’s job to manage the page for Lawrence’s ‘Celestial Hope Church,' and knowing his sister pretty well; Castiel guesses the password. It’s ‘Jeremiah 31:3.’ Anna is a full believer that God’s love knows no bounds so it’s not surprising that the reference for God’s unconditional love is her password choice.

_Castiel is in._

He’s not exactly tech-savvy. He mainly uses his laptop for Netflix or work, but he still knows the basics. Castiel hovers the mouse over the search bar at the top of the website. He doesn’t need to pause to think up his last name – Castiel has already embarrassingly ingrained those four syllables to memory. He types;

 _‘Dean Winchester’;_ filtering his search for only those living in Lawrence and the surrounding area.

The search brings up only 2 or 3 profiles – the first one he’s certain is the boy from the store. He clicks on the page, and surely enough it’s him. Castiel's heart warms at the profile picture and enlarges the image. The picture is of Dean, smiling sheepishly, sitting in a bar, sitting next to a stunning dark haired girl, his arm around her. On his other side, is a younger boy, who bears some resemblance to Dean... His younger brother, Sam perhaps?

Clicking back off the profile picture, Castiel begins to read the rest of the page. _From Lawrence, works at ‘The Roadhouse’ and ‘Curiosity Records’._ He frowns at the next line of Dean’s bio...

_‘In a Relationship with Lisa Braeden.’_

His heart sinks when Castiel makes the connection between the pretty boy and the girl at his side in his picture. He scrolls a little further and surely enough, there’s tagged photographs posted by Lisa Braeden, starring Dean Winchester. If Castiel had any doubt; there’s even one of them _kissing._

The blue-eyed boy chews his bottom lip a little and closes the laptop lid. Gabriel was right, Castiel can’t get his hopes up. And yet... He had never felt a connection – an _attraction_ like that with anyone. Certainly not that fast either. Dean had even given Castiel a nickname – _‘Cas,’_ like they had known each other for years, rather than mere hours.

_But he’s straight..._

He can’t think about the Winchester boy any more tonight, his head hurts. Castiel puts his laptop back and plunges the room into darkness before closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean really should have changed his relationship status, huh?


	6. She's Like The Wind

Dean is feeling lighter the day after his afternoon with Castiel. He’s had a good – even _busy_ day at the record store, and it’s Friday, so he just has tonight and tomorrow at The Roadhouse before his day of rest.

Glancing at the clock over the office door, he notes that it’s 5pm and starts closing up, humming Enter Sandman as he goes. Once he’s satisfied that the place is locked up and organised, he scribbles down a note for Garth – Dean’s colleague who works weekends, giving him duties Dean never got round to (probably due to his afternoon with Castiel on Thursday).

His good mood is dampened by a text alert from Sam.

**SAM:** _I know you wouldn’t – so I’ve organised for you to talk to dad. No excuses. Be at ours for midday Sunday._

Dean let’s out a frustrated groan. He really doesn’t want to talk to John – even more so after his drunken text the other day. He takes out his annoyance on Sam for meddling. He doesn’t _need_ to talk to his father. In fact he’s happier for getting out that hell-hole. Dean sighs, he knows Sammy means well. It can’t be easy being stuck between his father and his brother at loggerheads. He decides not to reply to Sam, he’ll take the silence as a reluctant yes.

* * *

When Dean pulls up to The Roadhouse at 7pm on Friday night, he notices a lightbulb flickering like crazy. Below it, Ellen Harvelle balances on a ladder, arms stretched upwards to the bulb.

Closing the Impala door, Dean smirks at Ellen as he approaches.

“You shouldn’t be up there at your age,” he hollers, teasing her.

Ellen doesn’t look down as she acknowledges his presence, “Dean Winchester, I am _not_ ready for a home yet. Carry on like that and you won’t have a job here,” she remarks. Ellen is used to regular taunting from the boy – she secretly loves it because it lets her know Dean is happy enough to be humourous.

Hand on his hip, and the other in his jean pocket, Dean squints upwards for a moment, “what are you trying to achieve anyway? Is the light faulty?”

The bulb goes out completely, and Ellen descends down the ladder, “it’s a new one but it looks like Ash ain’t installed it right.” She faces Dean and gestures to the problem, “you do it, please. I should’ve just gotten you to fix it in the first place, would’ve saved me the hassle.”

He pats Ellen on the arm before ascending the ladder, two steps at a time, “you flatter me, Ellen,” he says enthusiastically.

It’s five minutes later and both Dean and Ellen are looking up at a bright – functioning lightbulb.

“Thanks for that, son. How you been anyway? Sorry I’ve not been down here for a while, Jo keeps ushering me away, tells me to _enjoy retirement,”_ Ellen rolls her eyes. She’s as much a workaholic as her only daughter is; Jo gets that from her. Dean supposes she immersed herself into her job even more after her husband passed. Dean understands that; when he and John were at their worst, he would throw himself into various projects for Bobby – fixing cars here and there, deliveries, etc.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sammy’s fine – things are going great with him and Jessica-“

She cuts him off, “I _know_ how Sam is, Dean. I hear from your father often enough. I asked how _you_ are – and Lisa.” She eyes the older Winchester, scanning for answers. Ellen’s always trying to open Dean up – probably motherly instincts. She’s the closest thing Dean has to a mother, and he’s the closest thing to a son Ellen has.

“Actually... Lisa and I broke up. The other day,” he looks past Ellen, avoiding her gaze. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought of Lisa much since the night of their breakup. He’d been more fascinated by that Castiel Novak boy.

“Dean.” She speaks softly, “what happened exactly?”

He clenches his jaw and is met with another worried stare from Jo’s mom. So he slowly recounts the event of their evening at Cosmo’s.

When Dean is finished, he expects Ellen to give him an eye roll, tut, or _something_ which would let him know she thinks he’s an idiot for letting Lisa Braeden go. He gets none of that. Instead, she nods;

“I’m sorry for you both, Dean. Although, to tell you the truth, it’s probably for the best. I may have only met her on a small number of occasions, but I don’t think you brought out the good in each other. There was one time you brought her here and _good god!_ The tension between you too; honey it’s better this way. I think you both want different things in life.”

Dean let’s out a breath he’s been holding. It’s nice not being thought of as a fuck-up by a parental figure for once.

Ellen Harvelle is a kind woman, but she isn’t a sap. Her gentle tone slides into something a little more stern.

“I suppose I’m eating into your shift now with all this drabble. Go on now – get!” She half points to the entrance to The Roadhouse and chuckles.

* * *

It’s busier than usual tonight. One of the regular bands, ‘The Kansas Ramblers’ is in full swing tonight, and they fair pretty popular with the locals.

Dean keeps himself busy pulling pints of beer, and mixing the odd cocktail on occasion. His mood has improved again since he’s the only guy on duty. No offence to Jo, or Ash; but sometimes Dean just likes to do his own thing and get into a rhythm while he works. He can’t exactly do that when he’s yelling over music to gossip with his co-workers.

The band have finished up their take on ‘Wagon Wheel,' and have moved onto a slowed down, acoustic version of ‘Roxanne’ by The Police.

Dean isn’t really a fan of the song, but he’s in high spirits so he sings along in a low voice while he takes more drink orders.

“Sex on the beach, a-thank you.” The only folk who order those type of drinks are either young women, or gay men.

His eyes snap up and Gabriel Novak is smirking at him; he gives Dean a wink.

Dean feels his neck redden with a smidge of embarrassment and greets Gabe, “nice choice – it’ll take a couple minutes, I have a few customers before you.”

“Yeah, no worries Dean-o. Oh, and another one for my lady friend!” Dean does a double take between Gabriel and the frankly _gorgeous_ girl next to him.

_Huh, not gay then._

He finally gets round to shaking up drinks for the couple and brings them to the table they’re seated at.

Gabriel can sense Dean’s blatant surprise that he’s scored such a stunning lady, and he introduces them.

“Bela, Dean. Dean, Bela.”

Bela has light caramel coloured skin, and sandy hair which rests against her collarbone. Dean learns she works in real estate and has known Gabriel for a long time.

The three chat briefly about the band’s song choices before Gabriel jokes that his brother can’t shut up about Led Zeppelin at the moment.

Dean’s infatuation with Bela is severed at the mention of Castiel. He can’t hide the excitement in his voice,

“Cas liked the Zepp record?”

Gabriel shows surprise at the mention of the nickname he gave the boy. “Yeah he won’t shut up about it actually – although it’s better than the fuckin’ André Rieu phase he had in high school. You’re becoming a tad of an influence on him; Castiel never takes any of _my_ music suggestions.”

Dean finds it hard to mask the butterflies forming in his stomach. Having someone show interest his own passions is a new thing for him. He tries not to think about the fact that Castiel isn’t interested in the music because Dean likes it – it’s because he works in a damn music store and the dude only sees him as an employee.

He doesn’t want to appear too eager to talk more about Cas, so he doesn’t press Gabe further about his brother.

Dean’s thoughts of Mr Blue-Eyes are interrupted by Bela’s sultry English accent, “So, Dean... You got a girlfriend or _boyfriend?_ Pretty boy like yourself.”

This ground the boy back to reality. He opens his mouth and blurts back, “I’m not gay! I mean... I had a girlfriend, we broke up not too long ago. Not that there’s anything wrong with being...” _Jesus Dean, now they’re thinking you’re homophobic._

Bela purses her lips and faces her date Gabriel, who only narrows his brows in suspicion.

Dean is the colour of beetroot by this point so he promptly excuses himself and stresses to the couple to have a good evening.

Dean splashes his face with cold water in the staff bathroom and regains his composure to get back to work.

The night is drawing to a close and the band is playing their final song of the night, ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ by The Rolling Stones. Dean can’t stop thinking about Castiel. He finds he’s smiling to himself while he’s drying beer glasses, picturing the other boy sitting, listening intently while the needle drags across the turntable. A warm fuzzy feeling radiates in Dean Winchester; although he doesn't know why for sure.

“The band’s pretty good tonight, eh?”

Dean jolts at the voice coming from next to him – Jo.

“Hey, thought you weren’t coming in tonight?” Dean questions in surprise. He watches as Jo opens the cash register, licks her finger and stars counting the bills.

“Yeah, well... Nothing better to be doing on a Friday night when you’re single is there?” She says dismissively. “Just - don’t tell mom I was here, ‘kay? She thinks I work too much.”

Dean chuffs, putting away the clean glassware, “you _do_ work too much, Joanne. That’s why I took over the Friday and Saturday shifts, remember?” Jo has a sad look in her eyes so Dean adopts a softer approach, “do you miss him?”

Jo and Danny had been high school sweethearts, they went to prom together, graduated together, they even shared an apartment together. That is until Jo found Danny in bed with Ruby a little while ago. Dean sympathises with Jo; it’s got to be hard carrying on without who you thought was your soulmate – even if he did cheat.

The blonde girl stifles tears, although Dean and Jo act like siblings, they both have difficulty expressing emotions. “Nah, fuck him. He made his bed with _her._ They deserve each other. I’m not sad – I'm fucking furious for wasting years on that piece of shit... Oh and if we’re on the topic of hard workers – you’re not any better than me, you juggle two jobs, I don’t know how you do it,” she shakes her head.

Dean thinks for a moment. It’s Friday night, so he’s got nothing to be up early for tomorrow – he’s only back here at night.

“Hell, why don’t you come round after I close this place? We’ll crack open a few cold ones and I’ll even let you put on Dirty Dancing,” Dean hopes this’ll cheer Jo up, he knows what it’s like to go home to an empty apartment night after night.

“I don’t know, Dean... I gotta’ be in tomorrow morning and -”

“Fuck it, let Ash open up! He’s in all day tomorrow anyway, and he has a key. It’ll make no difference to him. Besides, he’s the reason your mom almost fell off that goddamn ladder, he owes you.”

Jo gives Dean a puzzled look – he forgot Ellen told him not to tell Jo she was here. He’s relieved when she doesn’t prod Dean about this, and instead responds, “you paying for the drink?”

* * *

It’s 3am on Saturday.

To say that Dean and Jo are a little tipsy is an understatement.

The two friends are sitting on opposite sides of the sofa, legs sprawled out across each other. They’ve only been at Dean’s apartment for little over an hour, but they started drinking while locking up The Roadhouse for the night.

“Deannnn, you promised Dirty Dancing!” Jo kicks Dean’s stomach, giggling playfully.

“What, so you can thirst over Patrick Swayze? What’s in it for me?” Dean is swatting the girl’s leg away.

Jo bites her lip and takes a swig of her drink, “only one of the greatest love stories in _history,_ Winchester! Jennifer Grey not your type?”

“Hmmmm... What’s that one actress? Kelly something.”

Jo gives Dean an even harder kick. “Bishop? Kelly Bishop?! THE FUCKING MOM??” She winces in disgust, “you’re beyond help.”

Dean laughs at Jo’s horrified face; one of his favourite hobbies is shocking the girl. He turns on the television and searches for the movie on Netflix. He’s a self-confessed movie buff and owns the 4K Blu-Ray collector’s edition of Dirty Dancing but he’ll never live it down if Jo knew that.

By the time the movie is halfway through, the pair are pretty drunk and are glued to the screen.

“You know, I think Johnny could do better than Baby,” Dean talks mainly to himself.

“No way! They’re made for each other,” Jo shakes her head, “their chemistry is undeniable!”

Dean doesn’t think before his next words, “Jo, are you serious? Man’s a fucking _dreamboat!_ Who wouldn’t want a piece of that ass? He could have any girl there and he chooses _her.”_

The older Winchester boy may not have noticed his choice of words, but Jo certainly has. She slowly turns to face Dean, cocks her head to the side and does a full-blown grin. “You jealous bastard! You totally have a thing for Swayze!”

Dean feels his face redden, not for the first time tonight. First Bela’s comment, now Jo? He’s comfortable with Jo, though so he tries to play it off nonchalantly. “Maybe? You saying you don’t? There’s a reason he was voted one of the sexiest men alive once upon a time.” He hopes this’ll be enough to satisfy Jo to change the subject. He’s wrong.

“Course I find him attractive – although it’s a little suspicious you keeping tabs on the hottest men list. Hey, now I think about it, you’ve called _a lot_ of the actors in the movies we watch 'dreamboats'... You choose these movies ‘cause you secretly want your daily dose of man crush?” She giggles again, then notices that Dean is practically the colour of a tomato. She throws a piece of popcorn at his head, “Wait a second! I was kidding – you don't actually like dudes, do you?”

Dean’s eyes have shifted to look at the floor, he’s peeling off the paper label from his beer bottle. He does sometimes think of guys, but he assumed most guys did? He loves women, everyone knows that about Dean. It’s just sometimes, he finds himself getting off to the odd picture of a hot guy – big deal.

Jo props herself up and sits cross-legged next to the boy, “hey, it’s okay you know? If you do. Is that why you broke up with Lisa?”

Dean feels a pang of anger, Sam must have told Jo about their breakup without consulting him first. Sam is such a fucking meddler. He can’t be angry at Jo, she’s only trying to stop her friend from having some sort of freak-out.

He starts slowly. “I know it’s okay. I mean, we’re friends with Charlie, aren’t we? I’m really not gay though, everyone has a couple of man crushes-” He doesn’t think Jo fully believes him, but she doesn’t say otherwise,

“-and as for Lisa... I sound like a broken record; but me and Lisa just ran our course, right? So, can we please just leave it and watch another movie?”

Jo nods, before stealing the remote control from Dean and flicking through the various titles on Netflix. When she hovers over one specific title, she turns to the man and grins.

“No, Joanne! Do NOT put that on!”

She presses play, and the opening titles for ‘Moulin Rouge!’ begin to roll.

Dean thinks he’ll need a few more drinks, it’s going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this chapter! I just adore Jo and Dean's relationship.


	7. Old Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to hold off posting this one, at least until I finished chapter 8, but chapter 8 is almost finished and I couldn't wait any longer!

Dean has somehow made it to Sunday. He and Jo didn’t fall asleep until after mid-day on Saturday, and he spent his evening shift at The Roadhouse in a state of murder. Jo – being the superhuman that she is, doesn’t get hangovers, so she spent all of Saturday ripping the shit out of Dean for wearing sunglasses.

As soon as he finished work last night, he crashed on the sofa. He stayed there until he woke this morning at 9am. After groggily throwing on fresh clothes, Dean brews himself a strong black coffee. Slumping back down onto the couch, he hears his phone’s message tone.

**SAM:** _Remember you’re seeing dad today. Be here 12._

Dean huffs at how adamant his younger brother is, before typing out a reply;

**Dean:** _I know. I aint forgot._

He hits send and throws the phone aside.

Its true, he hasn’t forgotten today, in fact he’s been dreading it. Aside from his drunken text message to John, Dean hasn’t talked to his father in months. He doesn’t even know where to start with him.

Dean cringes at the thought of small talk with John. That’s only one of the reasons he gave up on speaking to the man in the first place. _How’s work, Dean? How’s the Mrs, Dean? Tell Joanne I said hi, Dean._ It’s always the same. He’ll never change. But he’ll do this for Sammy if it’ll make him happy.

At least Dean can look forward to Castiel coming to the store hopefully this week, surely he’ll be itching for more records. Hell, it's so _refreshing_ to have a new friend.

He groggily throws on a black leather jacket and ties his boot laces before heading out the door. He considers going straight to the Impala, but Dean thinks he’ll walk to dad’s instead; he can’t bear John getting onto him about something he’s overlooked. On one occasion, John made Dean feel guilty about forgetting which type of break fluid the car took. _Well forgive me, dad – the car is over 50 years old._

Another reason for Dean’s choice to walk is that if he takes a slightly longer route via a residential street; he can sneak a glimpse at Castiel’s father’s church. He couldn’t get over the glimmer in the boy’s eyes when he spoke so highly of the church. Castiel says he spent most summers there as a child, helping his family, and hosting church BBQs. It makes Dean a little bit sad – he doesn’t remember doing anything like that with his brother and father when they were younger. Sure maybe before Mary died, but Dean was only four, he barely recalls anything from before then. This could be why he wants to visit Celestial Hope Church. Dean wants to see if the place Castiel spoke so adoringly of, is all that.

Striding across the road, Dean can see the building clearly. It’s obviously a church; with its steeple and stained glass windows depicting religious figures. Although, Dean immediately understands why Castiel – and he assumes many others, feel comfort here.

The wooden panels which make up the exterior of the structure are painted a soft lilac, with the front door baby blue in colour - unusual for a church. Dean’s eyes are drawn to the right side, on the lawn – where a sign has written in bold black lettering;

_“God so loved the world – and so he loves every one of you.”_

Dean feels a tear prick at his eye and he promptly wipes it away. John never took Dean and Sammy to church, called it ‘a waste of time.’

He’s got to stop thinking of his father in a negative light if he’s going to have any success in talking to him today. If Sammy says he’s changed, maybe he has.

Half and hour later, ringing the doorbell, Dean is standing on the doorstep of his childhood house, frankly shitting himself. Dean waits a moment and he’s about to ring the bell again – when the door swings wide open.

“Dean!” John sounds... Chipper? It’s been a hot minute since Dean’s felt happy to be seen by his father.

“Hi, dad.”

John looks past his son, “no car? Did you walk?”

“Yeah, felt like I needed the fresh air. It’s a nice day.”

“Course, yeah. Well come in! Grab a seat, do you want a drink of anything?”

Dean’s words spill out before his brain catches up, “as long as it’s not alcoholic.”

John doesn’t lash out at Dean, instead he rephrases, “would you like tea, coffee, or coke?”

Dean scratches the back of his neck, and tells his father he’ll take a coke. His hands are beginning to feel a little clammy so he hopes the coke will cool him down. He’s surprised when John even puts it in a glass with ice – _ice!_

“So, Dean,” John proceeds to slump down on the armchair opposite the sofa Dean is sitting on. “Sam told me about your girlfriend, Lisa – was her name? I’m sorry, son. Plenty more fish in the sea though.”

 _Goddamn Sammy, why did nobody teach you to keep your mouth shut?_ Dean fiddles with his glass of cola. “Yeah, Lisa. I really thought she was the one, apparently not.”

“Never mind, boy. Girls love you, the right one will come along sooner or later.”

Dean considers what his father says. _‘The right girl.’_ He’s thought relationships with girls is the only kind of relationship he can have. The last few days though, Dean has been finding himself thinking about boys more than girls. Ladies man, Dean Winchester – crushing on Patrick Swayze, and Castiel – _well._ Dean isn’t sure about Castiel, something about that blue eyed boy sets something in motion within Dean.

“Yeah, dad. Sure you’re right.”

“...And how about work? I know you still work for Ellen and her girl, you still at that music place too?”

“Curiosity Records, yeah I am.”

John nods. Dean can’t help but be bitter at the fact that his father can’t think of anything else to say – he’s ran out of pointless small talk.

He’s finished his coke and just as he’s considering excusing himself, John speaks,

“I know I’ve been a shitty father, Dean. God, I treated you like shit, you lost your mother and I had no right leaving you brothers alone half the time.”

Dean has nothing to add, so he lets John continue.

“...And I know I can’t ask you to forget what I’ve done. I’m only asking for the chance to prove to you that I’ve changed. I’ve been off the drink since 2015, the garage is doing better than ever. I just miss having my boy around – no offence to Sammy, but he doesn’t care about cars like we do.” John looks at Dean with an uncertain, _nervous?_ Expression. He doesn’t know how to respond; his dad isn’t usually one to acknowledge any of his wrongdoings.

“...Dad I-“

John cuts him off, “I know this has got to be hard for you to comprehend, son; but honest to God, I’m telling you the truth, this is the best I’ve been since before... Before your mother. I’m asking to be a part of your life again, I need both my boys.”

Dean gulps anxiously, “look, dad; I believe that you believe you’ve changed. I just don’t know if I can trust you again – I know I don’t deserve to be put through any of that same old crap. Sammy doesn’t either. But I’ll give you a chance; one chance – not for you, but for _him._ He shouldn’t have to choose between either of us.”

John exhales, as if he was holding his breath awaiting his oldest son’s response.

They both know that this is the first step in mending their broken relationship, but wounds are still too fresh for a warm embrace.

Dean shakes his dad’s hand when he leaves, and feels a weight lifted off his shoulders.

* * *

He doesn’t necessarily want to go home right away, so Dean makes for a nearby delicatessen as his stomach is growling now that his nervousness has subsided.

Seated on a bench outside the deli; Dean chews a bacon baguette with one hand, and texts his brother in the other,

**DEAN:** _Talked to dad. Where were u? Thought ud be there!_

It’s true, Dean was panicking when he realised his younger brother wasn’t there to keep the peace if things with John went south. Luckily though, Sam wasn’t needed after all, John Winchester – temperament to rival a bull, was actually _nice_ to Dean. If he keeps this up, it may be a cosy family Thanksgiving for the first time in years. It would be nice, Dean supposes; to not spend the holiday by himself. Yes, he was with Lisa, but Dean didn’t ‘do’ parents, and so his girlfriend spent most occasions with her parents – while he would go see Jo and Ellen, before watching movies alone in his apartment.

A couple of minutes later Dean’s cell rings; it’s Sam. The man grumbles under his breath - he texted Sammy, why can’t he just text back like a normal teenager instead of phoning? He begrudgingly answers,

“Yeah?”

“How did it go with dad? Did you both behave?”

Dean swears that Sam acts like such a mother hen sometimes.

“Yes, Sammy. The peace was kept, no cause for alarm.”

Sam is quick with his response, unease in his voice melting away into excitement, “that’s great Dean! What did I tell you? He really is trying this time – and you guys really got along? What did you talk about?”

“Jesus, man, gimme a second! We just talked about the usual. This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven anything yet, Sam, okay? He let me – ‘ _us’_ down too many times in the past, excuse me if I’m not entirely comfortable yet.”

Sam is a little hesitant, “I know, I know... Still it’s so fucking great I don’t need to worry about you guys strangling each other to death. Means you can actually come inside the house whenever I need a ride.”

Dean remembers all the neglect he suffered as a young boy in that house. It looks like a warm and welcome place now that John has apparently gotten his act together – peeling wallpaper has been replaced, kitchen is actually stocked with groceries, and it doesn’t stink of booze and cigarette ash anymore. The memories are still too strong to feel any comfort there, but maybe he could one day.

“Yeah, maybe, Sammy.”

The rest of Dean’s Sunday is relatively quiet – especially since Lisa isn’t around to ask to spend time with him on his one day off. Since he is in no mood to spend his evening cooking, Dean orders some Chinese food from downtown and channel surfs while eating.

He phones Charlie afterwards; Charlie Bradbury is one of Jo’s best friend’s, and Dean can totally see why. She’s funny, smart, and she loves all the nerdy shit Dean wouldn’t admit he loves to anybody else. Since Jo introduced them both at The Roadhouse a year ago, they occasionally meet up to embrace in nerd culture.

“Dean, Hey! How have you been? Sorry to hear about your girl,” Charlie is her usual preppy self. Dean just wishes everyone would stop asking about Lisa.

“Yeah, it is what it is. I’m doing good though, and you? How’s _your_ love life?”

“If I find a girl who’s as awesome as you are, I’ll let you know.”

Dean boasts, “good luck then, those are some pretty big boots to fill.”

Charlie asks Dean about the usual things going on in his life, but they mainly talk about Charlie’s new job. A new start-up company in downtown Kansas City were looking for a lead systems expert and Charlie obviously aced the interview.

“So that’s why I’ve been so damn busy, I got the phone call from them telling me I got the job when we were in Vegas, so it was a fucking great place to celebrate!”

“That’s amazing, Charlie! So fucking proud of you!” Dean can’t help but beam at the girl’s success.

“Thanks, Dean... So did you call about anything in particular?”

“Actually, yeah. They’re doing a performance of ‘The Rocky Horror Show’ at The Folly next month and I was wondering if you’d be interested in that kind of thing?”

“Ab-so-fucking-lutely! Dean, oh my _fucking god!_ We could dress up!”

“Okay, no way. If you wanna go as Frank N Furter then that’s on you. I’m happy being Dean Winchester, thank you very much.”

“I’m teasing ‘ya! Although I _might_ cosplay – you won’t be embarrassed to be seen with me?” Dean loves Charlie, she’s not afraid of having a good time.

“Not any more than usual. I’ll send you the link to the website, take care, kiddo.”

“You too, love you!”

Dean hangs up and grins to himself. It's been a while since he's looked forward to something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you and I are picturing Dean and Charlie in rocky horror get-up.
> 
> I'm almost finished chapter 8, so expect that within the next week or so :).


	8. Contemplations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a little more of Castiel in this chapter. Primarily his relationships with his siblings.  
> Apologies for my grammar sometimes, I'm in the UK so some words are spelt slightly different than the US, but I try my best.

It’s Tuesday morning and Dean is dusting in the record store.

He won't lie that it's nice to have Benny  back; he felt way too much pressure  managing the place in his absence. Luckily his father is on the road to recovery after his heart  attack,  only downfall is that Benny is now in full work mode,  giving Dean a whole bunch of menial  tasks to occupy  him . Dean thinks this is because Benny panics that if his employees become too  managerial; he won't feel needed anymore. This is ridiculous of course, Dean can watch the place for a few days, but he's thankful that Benny will always come back and take the reins.

“Oh , and Dean? You couldn't grab some milk from across the street wherever you get the chance?  Garth must have used the last of it up ,”  Benny calls from the office.

It's around 11am now, and the store probably won't get any more customers until after lunch, so Dean lets his boss know that he’s going to the store so he can watch the place. He grabs his familiar tan leather jacket and heads out the door to the tiny grocery store.

Upon his return, Dean is taken aback to see Benny chatting with none other than that Castiel Novak boy. The two whip their heads round to the door when the familiar bell rings at Dean’s entrance.

“Good, you’re back!  _ Castiel?  _ Yeah, Castiel’s here for you, says you have impeccable music taste,” Benny scoffs, “must have a screw loose.”

“Thank you, Benny,” Dean says sarcastically, heat rising in his cheeks. He throws the milk bottle to his boss and gives him an eye signal to retreat back to his office.

“’Ight, I’ll get out your hair, princess. You know where I am.”

Castiel  raises an eyebrow , “your boss seems friendly.”

“Tell me about it. No, but really, that man has helped me out when I’ve been in dire straits before. He’s a great guy.”

Dean remembers that Castiel is most likely not here for small talk with him, “what can I help you with today, Cas? I saw your brother the other night at The Roadhouse and he says you’re driving him nuts with Zeppelin. Calling me a ‘bad influence.’” Dean does comical finger gestures to imitate what Gabriel told him.

Castiel’s eyes avert the man' s gaze for a moment. Is he  _ blushing? _

Dean clears his throat and Castiel speaks, “ well... I did like how powerful the songs  were. I also enjoyed the other artists too . I think Gabriel needs to  learn  how to  keep his mouth shut sometimes.  I actually came  to give you these.”

Castiel  opens his black, leather satchel to reveal a Tupperware container which he hands to Dean. Dean pouts and turns the box about in his hands in confusion.

“ They’re mini apple pies – to say thank you for all the help.  Not just for the records,  but it was nice to have someone to talk to,” Castiel says with  warmth and vulnerability; as if  it really took something out of the man to admit.

“Geez, Cas – you really didn’t have to, it’s my job and  all,” Dean pulls open the  fastenings and is hit with the delicious smell of  apple and cinnamon. “ _ Jesus!  _ Did you  _ make  _ these?”

Castiel winces ever so slightly – Dean probably shouldn’t have said ‘Jesus’ to a guy from a pretty religious  family, he doesn't think sometimes

“Yeah, I did. I don’t bake that often anymore, but I used to with my sister when we were younger, she’s a lot better than I am.”

Dean finds this hard to believe when he takes a bite, “are you _kidding?!_ This is the best damn pie I’ve ever tasted!”  He audibly groans in satisfaction.

“Well, I’m glad you like them.  I remember the first time I came here, you were eating  pie, I believe; so I thought it would be a relatively safe option,” Cas smiles  softly.

Dean isn't sure what it is which makes him feel this way,  whether it's the heavenly home baking or the way the other boy appreciates him; but  something in  Dean Winchester tells him  t hat there could be  a potential fr iendship with Castiel.

Dean is feeling bold today. Clearing his throat  he asks, “Hey, out of curiosity do you like musicals?”

Castiel tilts his head in confusion.

“What I mean is... My friend Charlie and I are planning on going to see Rocky Horror in Kansas City next month, and... I don't know,  maybe you'd like to come along? I totally get that it's probably not your scene, so-“

“I’d love to.”

“Oh.”

“If you  hand  me your phone, I can give you my phone  number;  that would probably be easier to discuss details.”

Dean finds himself reaching out,  passing Castiel his  cell, saying nothing. He watches as the dark-haired boy  types his digits  in under a new contact .

He gives Dean back the device, “ thank you, Dean. I ’m sorry I  can't stick around today,  I really only came in to give you the pies.  Thank you for inviting  me,  I look forward to it,” and with  another quick smile,  he exits the store.

Dean stares  after the  man, and absently mumbles to himself, “me  too, Cas.”

“What ’d he want?”

Benny leans on the doorframe separating the  store front from the office.

“Oh, uh. Nothin’ I guess.”

“Nothin’?  What you got there?” Benny nods at the container in  the other man’s hand.

“Just some pie. Cas baked it  as thanks for my help.” 

“U-huh,” Benny  raises his eyebrows. “ He your sweetie wife or something?”

Dean  nervously laughs, “no man, come on! He’s just a weird lil’  dude; he meant nothing by it.”

“Sure. I hear ya’. Didn’t peg you as  a Rocky Horror type.”

Benny saunters back into his office and Dean is left contemplating exactly what his boss meant by that.

* * *

“Gabriel, he asked me to see a musical with him.”

“A  _ musical? _ That’s the gayest shit I’ve  heard-“

Castiel is having lunch with his older brother at a quint little bookshop-slash-coffeehouse  Castiel has become rather fond of.  It’s been a few days since he brought the boy baked goods. He often comes here when he needs time to think and unwind, the staff have even  memorised his order, which raises  an eyebrow from Gabriel.

“-at least tell me it isn’t The Sound of Music or some shit.”

“Shhh! Gabriel, you’re so  _ loud!” _ Castiel re-adjusts his posture which has become placid due to the cushy  leather chair he’s sitting on. He rubs his face and ruffles his hair with his hands, “ it’s Rocky Horror.”

“Oh,  _ shut the fuc-“ _

“Gabriel!”

“Cassie!”

Castiel has a nervous expression, whereas his brother  is smirking at him, “you mean to tell me that _Dean Winchester_ has invited you on a date to see  one of the most homoerotic stage shows ever created?”

“-Yeah, well. It’s not a date.  He asked me to come along with him and another  girl. Although I don’t know how his girlfriend will feel about that.”

“Wow, wow, wow. Hold on. He has a  _ girlfriend?  _ "

Castiel sighs, “Gabriel, you just have to let me  work stuff out on my own.”

“I just don’t know if Dean can be trusted, Cassie.  He’s probably straight, so what do you want? Friendship? Pursuing this could  _ hurt  _ you.”

“I don’t need you to baby  me. I can handle myself.”

Gabriel throws his hands up in defense, “I know, I know! Just forget I said anything, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Will you boys be needing anything else?  Cake, perhaps?” A pretty waitress, who Castiel has  come to learn her name; Hannah, asks.

“No, thank you, Hannah. I think we’re alright.”

Gabriel narrows his eyes in an appalled fashion, “actually,  I’ll be taking a slice of your red velvet, please.  Cassie ?”

“ Nothing for me.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t make me feel  guilty on my own; it’s on me,” Gabriel prods.

Castiel rolls his eyes, admitting defeat, “ may I please have a slice of your honey and lemon drizzle cake, Hannah?”

The girl  smiles, her face radiant, “certainly, Castiel. I’ll be right back with your desserts.”

Gabriel watches Hannah as she walks away, “shame  you’re so hung up on Dean Winchester; because that girl  obviously has a thing for you.”

Now  that his brother mentions it, Castiel  _ has  _ noticed the way that Hannah often gives him special treatment. A free ‘sample’ here and there which turns out to be a full-size thing. Even once or twice she was insistent that his coffee  with on the house. This worries Castiel, he doesn’t feel he could ever reciprocate any romantic feelings for the girl. Nobody has come close to his  interest in Dean; with his forest green eyes, and  freckles which dust his nose and cheeks so delicately, giving the illusion of  a  constellation of  stars yet to be discovered.

Castiel’s daydream about the record store boy is rudely interrupted by  Gabriel excitedly announcing that Hannah is approaching the table with two plates.

“There,  red velvet for you, and honey and lemon for you,” she gently places the plates and cutlery. “Just call me over whenever you’d like the bill – enjoy!”

“M hm-so whenz’ ‘eh muhscal?”  Gabriel’s voice is muffled as he stuffs  more cake into his mouth than will fit.”

“The  _ musical,  _ is sometime next month, but I’m not sure the  date yet, Dean says he’ll text me.”

“U - huh, give him your number, did you?”

“I  did, we’re just friends, Gabriel. That’s all we ever will be, but he’s nice. I like Dean  Winchester, and if  I can have him as a friend, that’s great.”

Again, Castiel is obviously not convincing his brother, however, Gabriel doesn’t  say anything.

When Hannah brings the  bill over, Gabriel immediately pulls the little plate it sits on towards him. He has a ridiculously sweet tooth, and he wants the  two peppermint  candies which always come with the bill.

After finishing one of the chocolate peppermints, he  whistles when he looks at the paper.

“What- what is it?”

“Yep, just what I thought,” Gabriel  laughs at the bill in his hand before Castiel has enough and snatches it grumpily from his grasp.

He feels his face radiate heat. Hannah has written her phone number on the bottom of the paper, under the total price. She even leaves a tiny ‘x’.

“ Told you so.”

Castiel kicks his brother under the table and  begins to worry. Of course, Hannah is beautiful and kind,  and very obviously  attracted to him. 

“ -Gabe, I don’t think I can-“

Recognizing his younger brother’s blatant  panic, Gabriel hushes his tone, “Cassie, it’s alright. Just tell her you’re gay. Its not a  _ complete  _ lie.”

“But I don’t know if I am – I mean...”

“Listen, when have you  _ ever  _ shown an attraction to women, Castiel? When we were kids and I was trying to get Kristie down the street to notice me;  _ you _ were playing mommy and daddy with Samandriel. Then it was ‘Ezekiel this' and ‘Ezekiel that,' until he got a girlfriend. And now, it’s Dean Winchester. Girls haven’t been within a mile radius of your interest.”

Castiel groans. “Balthazar doesn’t need to deal with these kinds of problems.”

“ _ Balthazar,  _ is painfully clearly gay. You, Cassie; are a pretty boy. Sorry, but women  _ adore  _ pretty boys,” Gabriel pops the second peppermint candy past his lips.

“Thanks,” Castiel responds sarcastically.

“Welcome. You know, I’ll just wait for you in the car, here’s $40,” Gabriel passes his brother a couple notes and leaves.

Instead of luring Hannah to his table, Castiel stands and sheepishly moves towards the cash register where the waitress stands.

“Hannah, may I talk to you in private?” 

Hannah smiles and nods to Castiel, before tapping a co-worker  –  _ Rachael  _ on the shoulder; asking her to cover f or a moment.

They both exit out the side staff door, which leads to an alleyway that is more often than not – covered in cigarette butts.

“What’s up?” Hannah is still smiling but there’s a slight nervousness in her features.

“I think maybe I gave off a wrong signal. I apologize... But you’re not exactly my usual type,” Castiel carefully phrases. Deep down he  _ knows  _ he’s most likely gay, but he  sometimes holds out a sliver of hope that he might be bisexual – that a pretty girl will enter his life and make him completely forget about those pretty green eyes.

“Oh. I’m sorry...  I get it, I’m not the type of girl you’d go for,” Hannah tries to hide the disappointment in her voice.

_ Castiel, just be honest with her. _

“Men.  Men are my usual type, Hannah. I really am sorry, you’re a lovely girl.”

“Oh. Oh! Right. Guys... Are you gay, Castiel?” The dark-haired girl  is surprised, to say the least.

“I... Uh. I suppose I am.  Your free samples were probably wasted on me, I’m afraid.”

She laughs, “Nah, I wouldn’t say that! You enjoyed them, didn’t you? Worth a shot, though,” Hannah pauses for a second. “ I’d like to still maybe be a friend – if that isn’t too weird ?”

The nauseous feeling which had been building deep in Castiel’s belly fizzles  out .  “ O f course!  As long as the free food is still on offer ,” he jokes.

Hannah and Castiel return back to the establishment, and he  gives her cash for the lunch. With an awkward, but warm hug (initiated by Hannah) , and a laugh over the situation, he says his goodbyes and  heads out to Gabriel’s  car.

* * *

The following day,  Castiel and Anna – on request by their father;  are re-varnishing  the church  pews.  The younger members of the church more often than not; sit at the far back of the room – where their gossiping and antics cannot be seen by  Father Novak.

It is there, where Anna and Castiel apply  a dark coat of mahogany coloured paint on the backs of the pews; the children are  easily bored and tend to kick the  backs of the pews restlessly in front of them, causing the varnish as well as the paint to flake and scuff away over time.

“I’m telling you,  when I have children; they will  _ not  _ act like this!” Anna,  who is usually patient as a saint,  has almost reached her wit's end. “We weren’t like this, were we? ”

Castiel sighs and takes a seat on one of the untouched pews. Celestial Hope isn’t a large church at all, however between only two people, the large number of pews is a daunting and exhaustive task. They’ve been here for  five hours, and have barely covered one-fifth of the room.

Anna  gently sits down next to her brother and offers him a drink from her water bottle, which he accepts. He returns it to her and throws his head back in exhaustion,  gazing up at the many stained glass light fixtures on the ceiling. In this moment, he hears his  phone’s text alert hum softly. Slowly bringing his head back down, Castiel rummages in his back pocket for his cell and squints at an unknown number.

** Unknown Number:  ** _ Hey, Cas. Hope I got ur number right.  _ _ Charlie had pre-booked  _ _ 2 _ _ tickets. I managed to book yours today, so I’ll send u the link to ur e-ticket. _ _ It has the details of the date, time, etc. _

_ -Dean _

Castiel smiles at the boy’s nickname for  him, and the sign-off at the end.  Of course – he had been so rash in giving Dean his number, he never asked for one in return.  He promptly saves the phone number as a new contact and  places his  phone down on the pew, between himself and his  sister.

“Coffee?” Castiel asks. The two of them are needing some caffeine to  get through the afternoon.

“Thanks, one sugar please.”

As  Castiel washes the teaspoon he used to stir the mugs, he hears Anna’s muffled voice from the other side of the building.

He  brings in a deep breath and shouts, “What did you say?”

He hears her clearly the second time, 

“ Who’s Dean?”

The boy sighs, picks up the two mugs of coffee, and walks back to where  he left his sister. She’s squinting down at the lit-up  screen beside her.

“Just a friend, don’t be nosey, Anna ,” he plays this off dismissively and hands her a cup. 

Sitting back down, he places his mug beside him on his free side and picks his  phone up.

** One New Message **

** DEAN ** ** :  ** [ _ Https://follyetickets-castiel_novak-true.rockyhorrorshow.hxhwbwbalxirbancnw.us _ ](https://follyetickets-castiel_novak-true.rockyhorrorshow.hxhwbwbalxirbancnw.us/)

_ -Dean _

Castiel clicks the link to  double-check, and responds;

_ Thank you, Dean. I’ll print it out nearer the time, and I’ll _ _ pay you for the ticket. _

Not even two minutes later,  Castiel  receives another reply;

** DEAN:  ** _ I’m paying. _

The boy smiles sweetly to himself, Dean isn’t exactly making it easy for Castiel  to not picture them both on a date. _ How chivalrous. _

“What’s got you  all happy?” Anna nudges her  brother out of his daydream.

“ Nothing.” Castiel really doesn’t want Anna prying,  she lives in a gossipy suburban neighbourhood and Castiel is afraid that she’s picked up  the nasty habit in her time there.

Thankfully, she doesn’t pry any longer. Anna is distracted by the arrival of her husband; Abel, carrying two lunch boxes that appear to be filled with some kind of salad. He gravitates to his wife and pecks her a chaste kiss on her left cheek. 

“How are you getting along here?”

“Hard work, but I think we’re getting there, right, Castiel? ”

He nods and gives Abel a quick smile of acknowledgment.

“Good, good.  I can’t stay for lunch, I have choir tryouts today. This year’s junior batch are going to be amazing, I just know it,” Abel grins.  Despite Anna’s grumbling earlier about disobedient kids; they both  are great with children. Castiel thinks it’s just a matter of time until they’re announcing baby number one.

“ To apologise, I whipped you both up some lunch,” Abel hands  a container each to Castiel and Anna, both thank him.

Castiel assumes that the couple would like a minute or two to chat before Abel leaves, so Castiel makes himself  scarce. It's a beautiful day, so he takes a few small bites of his salad whilst basking in the sunshine  from the bench outside.

Abel exits  the building a few minutes later, waving goodbye to Castiel. Anna  comes and sits next to her brother.

“I wish you would find yourself a lovely girl, Castiel.”

He wonders where  _ that  _ came from. Sometimes Castiel forgets that  Gabriel is the only one with somewhat of an understanding of Castiel’s  romantic interests, he wouldn't know where to begin with telling Anna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocky Horror in the next one - yay!
> 
> Edit: I'm about 1000 words into chapter 9, hopefully will post in a week or so :)


	9. Bless My Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Cas, and Charlie gear up for their night out.

It’s Sunday 21st of July, the show is tonight, and Dean will admit, he is nervous to see Castiel. He had hoped the boy would have popped into the store over the last couple of weeks, but he never did. It’s not as if the two hadn’t been in contact – they text almost every day – and Dean is often the one to instigate the messages; which surprises him as that was one of his vices when he was with Lisa. Dean understands that Castiel has been busy helping his father at Celestial Hope, but he misses his company during those long and sometimes quiet shifts. 

Dean knows that Charlie will be disappointed if he doesn’t put any effort into his appearance – she will most likely be in cosplay after all; and so, Dean has bought a graphic T-shirt, depicting Tim Curry sitting cross-legged on a throne, dressed in his Frank N’ Furter costume. This way, Dean can sport some merch, without totally embarrassing himself. 

He’s not been eating as well as usual – not on purpose; Dean has just been so caught up in work and helping Bobby at the scrapyard, that he tends to eat quickly on the move. He groans when he puts on his Rocky Horror shirt and realises it’s hanging a little on the loose side. _Should have ordered a small, fuck – oversized will just have to do._

Dean matches his baggy, burgundy t-shirt with some black skinny jeans and a black leather jacket. After styling his short, sandy hair, and patting some aftershave over his jawline; Dean Winchester thinks he’s looking pretty decent.

Walking to the kitchen’s island, Dean picks up his phone and checks to see if either Castiel or Charlie have texted. Charlie has; 

**Charlie:** _Hey Dean! Is everything still good for tonight?! Can’t fuckin wait, man!_

Dean chuckles and promptly texts her back, letting her know all is good, and he’ll meet her at The Folly at 6pm. The show starts at 8pm but Charlie is insistent that she meets Castiel properly beforehand, so they’ll meet her in the theatre bar. He glances at the time on his cell – it’s now 4:30pm, plenty time since it’ll only take him roughly forty minutes to drive to Kansas City. 

Dean checks a text he received from Castiel the other day; it contains his home address. It’s only polite that Dean offered to give the other boy a ride – Cas was reluctant to admit to him that he didn’t own a car; his plan was to get the bus. Dean wouldn’t stand for that; it wouldn’t be fair, would it? Besides, Castiel is only a ten-minute drive from Dean’s apartment, he’s happy to be of assistance. 

Dean should probably get a move on, so he makes the first move, by texting Castiel to tell him he’s on his way. Once he hits send, he scrolls back up to double-check the address, mouthing its syllables to memorize it – he did promise Sam he wouldn’t go on his phone when driving after all. 

Fifteen minutes later, Dean is sitting in the Impala, outside the residence of Castiel Novak. It’s a charming little townhouse, with oak coloured wood panelling, and a garden bursting with colourful blooming flowers. He turns the engine off, leaves the car, and rings the doorbell. Dean’s taken aback when the front door swings open wide. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

According to Dean Winchester, Castiel looks amazing – like the dude scrubs up _pretty fucking well_. His hair is still a little scruffy, but he thinks the boy suits it; matches his character. Dean can’t help but feel the corners of his lips betray him as they creep into a grin. 

“Hey, Cas; lookin’ good.” Dean gulps, looking the other boy up and down; he’s wearing a form-fitting black button-up shirt, accentuating Castiel’s slim, but lean figure. His sleeves are rolled up to just below the elbows – Dean can’t help but notice the soft golden skin of his forearms, and his eyes follow a raised vein from Castiel's arm, right down to his inner wrist. 

“Likewise - I like your shirt, very fitting,” Castiel points at Dean’s tee. He’s beginning to feel a little self-conscious about his baggy shirt; when the other boy looks so carelessly dapper. He looks down at the top, stretches the bottom of it to look at the design, and mumbles, 

“Yeah, well... It’s a little big on me, didn’t really have time to change it for a smaller size.” 

Castiel is looking at Dean’s tee with a confused stare. He brings his eyes up to meet Dean’s, who struggles to hold contact. Then, sincerely, he determines, “no, it suits you, Dean. You look handsome.” 

Dean doesn’t believe the other boy means what he says, but he chokes at the compliment, “jeez, well... Thanks, man... We should – ya' know -” He gestures to the Impala and scratches the back of his neck which is feeling a little hotter than usual. He notices that this is becoming a regular occurrence when Castiel is around.

“Of Course. I just have to grab my wallet; I’ll be right back.” 

Dean licks his lip when Castiel turns back to his house. _You’re not gay, he’s just a good-looking guy. God you need to get laid, Winchester._

* * *

The two men arrive at The Folly a little later than Charlie; she texted him to let him know she'd be sitting in the theatre bar.

“Ah- you’ll love Charlie, Cas! Just be prepared to be exhausted by the end of the night with her limitless enthusiasm,” Dean jokes as he holds the door open for Castiel and follows him inside. 

The bar is warm and cosy; illuminated with the soft glow of yellowish-white fairy lights. It takes a minute or so of Dean searching the place for Charlie – Castiel doesn’t know what she looks like so he just kind of stands there. 

He spots her and nudges the other man, “there she is.” 

“Dean! So great to see you! I’ve missed you, dude!” Charlie has hopped up from her chair and throws her long, scrawny arms around Dean – pecking a kiss on his cheek as she does. 

He thinks Charlie looks awesome as always. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was going to dress up tonight. She’s wearing a black leather skirt with fishnet tights to match underneath. On her top half, she’s wearing a deep red corset to complement her fiery coloured hair. Unlike many other girls, Charlie doesn’t look intimidating in her cosplay – her bubbly, nerdy personality sort of cancels out that; but she looks fantastic and pulls it off all the same. 

“Likewise! Fuck, it’s been a while,” he’s caught up in his interaction with Charlie that he almost forgets Castiel standing directly behind him. “Oh! Charlie, this is Castiel,” Dean steps aside, allowing Charlie to greet him. 

“Hey, Castiel!” The blue-eyed boy looks slightly frightened when Charlie goes in for a similar hug. Dean’s about to step in, in case Castiel is uncomfortable with contact, but he reconsiders when Castiel’s face softens and he reciprocates the embrace. 

“Dean’s told me a lot about you,” Castiel says when they pull away. 

“All good, I hope! He’s talked about you too; from how he described, I thought you’d be shorter.” 

“Okay, okay. What does everyone want? Charlie?” Charlie and Castiel have sat down, while Dean offers to get a round of drinks. 

“Just another jack and coke, thanks.” 

“-Cas?” 

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having, Dean.” 

“Oh-kay,” Dean claps his hands. “I’ll be back in a flash.” 

Walking back to the table with a tray of drinks; Dean watches as Charlie and Castiel are engrossed in friendly chatter, he’s glad they’re getting along. 

Whenever Dean brought Lisa along with him to meet his friends, it was more often than not, a painfully awkward experience. And that was with Jo, he couldn’t imagine introducing Lisa to Charlie, talk about chalk and cheese. 

Dean shakes thoughts of his ex-girlfriend out of his head, grimacing at himself for comparing Lisa with Castiel. It’s not as if he and Castiel are ever going to shack up. 

“Okay, princesses; jack and coke for you, and – sorry Cas, wasn’t sure if you’re a beer drinker, but I am, so I got us a couple of buds,” Dean lays the tray down in the centre of the table before returning to his seat. 

“Budweiser’s fine with me,” Castiel takes his first sip and winces ever so subtly. Dean notices the movement but kindly doesn’t tease him. He determines that Cas isn’t a big drinker, unlike him. 

“So, Castiel was telling me how you two met; you corrupted him, you bastard,” Charlie puts on a dramatic voice. “Dragging this poor Christian boy to a show about-” she whispers, keeping up the comedic act, “-sinners!” 

“Yeah, yeah. As if you’re any better example,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Besides, Cas wanted to come, didn’t ya’?” He looks to the other man for support. A seed of doubt worries its way into the pit of his stomach that Castiel may not enjoy the night, and might only be polite. 

Charlie reassures Dean that she was joking, and she was getting Castiel up to speed about the show whilst Dean was buying the drinks. 

"So, Cas, have you at least watched the movie?"

“I had heard of the film and the original musical, but to be honest, I had no idea what it was actually about. From what Charlie’s told me, she’s really piqued my curiosity about it all.” Dean grins at the other boy; Castiel must _really_ be a light drinker – if he drinks at all ever. By now, Cas has drunk two bottles to himself, a minuscule amount by most standards – _especially_ by Dean’s. 

Dean doesn’t mind though, he finds it adorable the way Castiel loosens up with the drink. 

* * *

Charlie, Dean, and Castiel are finally seated slap bang in the centre of the theatre. Castiel feels that he _should_ regret drinking (the last time he drank was when he was 18 years old), but he doesn’t. He touches his cheek with his fingertips, noticing that the beer must have flushed some noticeable colour into his face. He kicks himself internally for the way he smiles so softly at Dean every time he talks to him tonight. He just can’t help it; Dean is beautiful when he's excited. 

“Looking forward to it?” Dean is nudging Castiel’s right arm. They’re waiting for the stage curtains to open. 

“Yeah! You know, De-Dean! I’ve never actually been to see a musical before!” He says a little loudly into Dean’s ear while pulling his leather jacket’s sleeve. It wouldn’t surprise him if the man is going to have permanent eardrum damage to his left ear by the end of the night. 

Dean doesn’t appear to care though, he just looks proud that his friend is sharing his enthusiasm. 

The lights begin to dim slowly until they’re submerged into darkness.

The curtains creep back, as the opening track begins. 

Castiel is grinning ear to ear, holding his can of coke which Dean jokingly suggested was a good idea rather than more alcohol. 

By the time Janet and Brad (our protagonists in the show) have been caught in the rain and have run into a seemingly empty mansion; Castiel is engrossed in the story - he wants to know what’s so mysterious about the place. 

He isn’t left in the dark for long though, because the ensemble cast have appeared from the woodwork and are singing ‘Time-Warp.’ Castiel enjoys this one; he had actually heard this song before, so he’s pleasantly surprised to discover its origins. His head is buzzing like electric static, brought on by the beer, but he’s having a fantastic time; and it appears everyone else is too. The majority of the audience are belting out the lyrics – Dean and Charlie especially. Castiel feels genuine happiness watching the duo enjoy themselves so. In fact; he can’t remember being this happy _ever._

Intermission comes, and truth be told; Castiel is thankful as he needs to pee badly. Since the boy hadn’t been to The Folly before, he’s unsure where the bathroom is, and he’s also a little dizzy so he’s not in the mood for exploring by himself. Luckily Charlie wants to go to the vending machine for a bottle of water, so she suggests she shows him on the way. 

When Castiel exits the bathroom feeling a lot lighter and comfortable, Charlie is leaning against the theatre’s lobby wall; waving to get his attention. “’Ya feeling better?” she asks. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if I could have waited much longer,” Castiel holds the girl’s water while she re-ties her doc martens. 

As they’re walking back to Dean, Charlie asks if the show is what he expected. 

“I’m not sure _what_ I expected, but I love it so far,” Castiel smiles. He’s taking his time on the staircase, being careful not to let his feet disobey him. 

“Yeah. Rocky is one of my favourites; I’m guilty of watching the bootlegs on YouTube, so it’s nice to be able to actually pay to see it in person. It’s iconic within the LGBT+ community; I’ll have you know.” 

“I figured. My brother referred to it as ‘pretty gay,’ I thought he meant it in a derogatory way. But no, I guess he was right.” 

Charlie holds a fire-door open for Castiel at the top of the stairs, “Yeah, no; your brother is totally correct, as a lesbian myself, this gives me brownie points.” 

It isn’t until the two are weaving through audience members that Castiel clicks what Charlie said. _She’s a lesbian?_ Something about this comforts Castiel. The only other gay person he knows is Balthazar. He ponders whether Dean knows about Charlie. 

Castiel thoroughly enjoys the rest of the show - however, he feels a tightening in his chest every time one of the show’s male actors struts across the stage shirtless, or in a tight leather corset. He’s thankful for the bottles of Bud because otherwise, he’d be shifting in his seat in a fluster. 

When the show finishes and the cast take their final bows, Dean and Charlie shoot up from their seats, whistling and woo-ing in a standing ovation. Castiel is still a little intoxicated so be polite, he stands and claps along instead. 

* * *

“That was so fucking awesome, guys! Couldn’t have had a better time!” Charlie has a spring in her step as the trio exit the theatre doors, onto the city streets. 

“Tell me about it! I’d seen the movie, but _man,_ that was The Shit!” 

Castiel hums in agreement. 

“It was so great meeting you, Castiel! Don’t be a stranger, ‘kay? Dean – promise me you won’t let him be a stranger!” 

“Fine, Fine! Stop finger-wagging at me!” 

They walk Charlie to her car and she throws her arms around the two men; bringing them into one big embrace. 

Castiel’s heart skips a beat when Dean casually throws an arm around his waist, pulling the three of them into a tighter hug. He wants to remain in this moment forever, but it ends as abruptly as it began. They wave Charlie off and begin to walk towards the Impala. 

“So you really did like it?” Dean’s keeping his eyes on the road, he only had two beers compared to Castiel’s five by the end of the night; but he likes to be careful. Especially when there’s company he’s responsible for. 

“Very much, Dean,” Castiel nods thoughtfully. “Maybe we could do this more often.” 

Dean tells Cas that there will _definitely_ be more days and nights out, Castiel is great company. 

“Don’t flatter me, Dean Winchester,” Castiel says lowly, but teasingly. 

Dean laughs. Castiel really is a fucking lightweight. He can’t imagine the boy jokingly flirting – or whatever this is, with him sober. 

Dean turns the radio on but keeps it low; playing some Simon and Garfunkel. By the time the CD is almost finished, Dean is entering Lawrence. 

“So what’s your plan for the rest of the night?” Dean allows a sideways glance in Castiel’s direction, but he’s sound asleep – head tilted to one side, leaning against his own shoulder. Dean feels his heart go soft for the man. 

_No, Charlie,_ _I won’t let him be a stranger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I fell behind a little, I'm easily distracted!  
> I've made a start on Chapter 10 so hopefully won't be long until I've posted that too.


End file.
